


a Sun upon Hollows

by Esseegg



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bittybones (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Fellswap (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fellswap Papyrus (Undertale) - Freeform, Fellswap Sans (Undertale) - Freeform, Female Reader, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I don't know, More of a Found Family kind of Story, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale), Swapfell Sans (Undertale), Tags May Change, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), pretty sure this isn't romantic, there are hints of it though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:54:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23422018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esseegg/pseuds/Esseegg
Summary: Bitties, once beloved and babied pets of their human creators, are now pests. Dangerous vermin, as you often hear. A commercial mistake, as the company put it. It's been years since the skeletal species went under mass extermination, or... near extermination. The bitties who still live out on the streets call themselves survivors.You're no saint, of course. It's not like you go out every day looking for these survivors! You just happen to share a home with a Boss bitty. You just happen to run into two more bitties, who are about as unique as the Boss you've grown to love. Sure, there's injury! Sure, there's a little fear! But.. the world's already been so cruel to them. Surely, you can be an exception for them... Right?{ Bitty cast includes Underfell Papyrus, and my take on Swapfell/Fellswap Sans and Papyrus. For story purposes, Swapfell/Fellswap bitties are one and the same, as a blend of traits from both AUs. }
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale) & Reader, Sans (Undertale) & Reader
Comments: 110
Kudos: 217





	1. Prologue

She was a hurricane. Roaring, howling, she whipped her arms left then right—snapped her jaws, sputtered hair past her teeth, snarled and whimpered all at once. Some sort of beast, she stood her ground. Unapologetic, grief-stricken, aching. More than once, her trembling, pointed fingers found random witnesses pressed against the walls of plexiglass—none to her knowledge. As her breath, her growls, her puffs all drew hot; small, skeletal hands felt none of it. In fact, the energy that flowed through the creatures trapped behind plexiglass walls ran cold. Countless slits and voids of sockets’ black—they watched her. They listened to her.

 _“It’s ridiculous,”_ she croaked. _“Pathetic, even. Humans, playing with the hands of God. We create this beautiful, wondrous new species out of thin air, and then we market them! We give them flaws, disorders, shrink them down to the size of our palms, and make them impossible to survive without us! It’s ridiculous! They don’t even know. They don’t realize how fucked up we are. To create.. To create something so wonderful, so bright, so colorful…”_

She choked. Reddened, she gripped her head.

_“So intelligent… We make them. Then we make them our inferiors. Because that’s all humans want. We want power. We want strength. We want someone to rely on us, and we treat them like shit. We see all these things as pets. People get bored. People get scared. People treat them like dolls. And it’s.. it’s wrong…”_

That was all they ever heard of her. A hurricane, she was—because when the store manager caught wind of her spiel, she crumbled down to the eye. Underneath the SOUL-crushing snaps of her teeth, there was a girl. Young, scared, objectively pitiful—or loathsome. She, too, was a dependent. She, too, had rules to follow. Her power was miniscule. Her spirit was small. Her SOUL, trapped in a vivid panic, sent waves of tremors throughout the store.

Get out, the manager spat, and **_don’t_ come back.**

She was compliant—ironic. She was guilty—a traitor. Meek and quiet, she apologized to the manager and, on the way out, to her friend who had been so eager to see the bitties awaiting a new home. The two teens, near adulthood, stood side by side with their backs to the store. While the glass display stood between the outside and the stacks of bitty cages against it, the SOUL—her SOUL—could still be felt.

It was shivering, the bitties realized. She was just as shaken by her own passionate flares as the rest of them. Then suddenly, it vanished. She vanished. Her SOUL… vanished. All she left behind was the memory, the imprint, of her SOUL’s burning empathy. The ashes sat static in the cavities of once lively skulls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * on Saturdays, the egg returns with a new chapter. the egg's schedule is fickle, though; consistency is impossible to guarantee. patience and support are much appreciated <3
> 
> * while readers wait for a new chapter, the egg has provided a discord server. talk with the author, fellow bitty lovers, and get access to exclusive content (drabbles, one-shots, art, etc.) and interactions with the bitties! everyone is welcome <3
> 
> * [click here to join the discord server!](https://discord.gg/cQt8wWb)


	2. Rose-Colored

Beautiful, your heart sung. Gorgeous, your mind gushed. Fixing your sunglasses upon your head, you brought your two-pound camera up to your lashes. With the black brackets printed upon the viewfinder, you earnestly framed the precious sight before you.

Brick buildings, conquered by time and the elegant cling of vines, were painted over by the golden brushstrokes of the waking sun. All the while, the pink yawns of the sun were spanning across the skyscrapers’ empire, turning your very soul into something soft. The way that the urban buildings, the windows, embraced the lingering purples of the fleeing nightscape—The way that Mother Nature’s gentle love coiled about humans’ scars upon her skin—Just…

“Beautiful,” you whispered.

Wiggling your toes in the warmth of your boots, you clicked through the various photos you just took. Satisfied, you guided your companion to rest at your hip, then went on your merry way through the still-slumbering city. Brass and velvety altos with tenors serenaded your muted mind, trapped by the earbuds that led down to the phone buried deep in the pocket of your swooping trench coat.

An anomaly, some called you. Every now and again, a poor inhabitant of downtown would see your bouncing self. Always at the strangest hours, they’d remark. You’d be out when no one else was—laughing when you tripped on a sidewalk crack, swinging your arms and swaying your hips as music deemed fair, mouthing to the skies like angels would gather for your lack of a voice. Sometimes, you’d get caught with your camera pointed to the buildings. Through all your apologies to hostile residents, you’d still have a grin on your face. Nervous, certainly, but experience lent you security. They only ever got a blink’s glimpse of the panic embedded in you.

You were always sorry. Really. That’s why you never fought. There were plenty other muses in the city for you. There always were. Lights, reflections, leanings, subtleties, skele—…

 _‘Skeletons?’_ and two silhouettes. Humans.

You peered ahead, plucking your earbuds out. At the reckless stomp of one silhouette, the jump of a white, dark blur, your blood ran cold. You broke into a sprint; a shout rose out of you. Your heels scraped concrete, skidding to a halt, while the tail of your coat shadowed the creatures behind you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you heaved.

“Pest control,” one man hissed. He fixed his grip on the net in his hands. “Outta the way, ma’am. They’re bitties we’re handlin’.”

 _‘Bitties.’_ You didn’t dare look behind you.

“You tried to dust them,” you uttered.

“They’re dangerous, ma’am, with street fighting experience,” the other man stated. A cage hung limp in his tense grip, while a glove protected his nimble, anxious fingers. “Recalled over three years ago. We’re just doing what’s left of the clean-up, so please, step aside.”

“You can’t just–!”

The net zipped around you. Pushed aside, you watched the man search the concrete wildly. Then, in a snarl, he cursed, flinging drops of saliva onto your face. “Now we gotta search the damn alleyways, no thanks to you!” Turning to his partner, he wiped at the slobber that pooled along his lip. “Come on, man! I ain’t searching for them all mornin’!”

Somehow swift for his size, the hot-tempered man stormed into the alley, where pink touched only the top brim of its walls. His partner, nodding sheepishly at you, followed at a brisk jog. All you could focus on was the cage in his hands. Before it was swallowed by the shadows, it gleamed at you. Empty, fang-like—waiting to clamp its teeth on weary bones.

_‘The bitties.’_

You scrambled onto your knees, searching wildly with eyes and hands. “Guys? Bitties? Are you– Are you still there..?!”

Nothing. Behind the parking meters, in the cracks of buildings’ bricks, in the crooks and shadows of the alley’s opening, under the pest control van parked on the curb—nothing. Your frantic, skipping calls for the bitties, whom you hoped to save, fell on deaf ears. You named every type you could think of: Sansy, Papy, Baby Blue, Boss, Edgy, Cherry, Lil’ Bro!—God knows what else. Your memory could only serve you so well. Your adrenaline could only go so far. Eventually, reason had to settle in. Stumped by your defeat, stretched thin by anxiety, you had to reach a conclusion… Yes. They went into the alley.

As you got to your feet, you stared down into one of the many maws of the city’s concrete, brick maze. You…

_‘Can’t go in there…’_

Disheartened, you let the remnants of your frenzy go. Those two men probably wouldn’t return soon; even if they did, they wouldn’t say anything to you. You had gotten in the way—nearly broke your camera too. Fondling the fragile device, you tapped it awake. By default, it readied itself for a shot of the cracked sidewalk and your scuffed boots. With the touch of a button, the screen recreated the golden bricks and pink-tinted buildings of purple shimmer. Gazing softly at the image, you hoped to feel your lips curl. Just a tad.

 _‘I did what I could…’_ but you could’ve done more. You were sure of it. Picked them up. Called them yours. Insisted you were looking for them. But then, they’d have fought _you..!_ But you’d let them go! You’d assure them that you were one of the few who prayed for survivors like them..!

 _‘Would they believe that..?’_ you wondered. One could only imagine how many times those bitties have heard such a string. After all, humans.. were sour creatures—creatures they had to rely on. Part of you wondered how much longer those bitties’ clocks would continue to tick.

_‘Morbid.’_

Sighing, you let your camera dangle by your hip again. After taking one last look at the sky, you started back the way you came. The city wasn’t pink anymore. You weren’t interested in that kind of city. Besides, the autumn wind was starting to pick up. It seemed desperate to sweep the day’s light under a rug of stars.

Stifling a shiver, you pressed yourself up against the door of your car. Patting your pockets, you eventually found the smooth, irregular bumps that were your keys. Fishing them out, you took refuge in the warmth of your vehicle. As you made your way home, the pocket that once held your keys dangled comfortably between door and seat—not folded like a weightless pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * on Saturdays, the egg returns with a new chapter. the egg's schedule is fickle, though; consistency is impossible to guarantee. patience and support are much appreciated <3
> 
> * while readers wait for a new chapter, the egg has provided a discord server. talk with the author, fellow bitty lovers, and get access to exclusive content (drabbles, one-shots, art, etc.) and interactions with the bitties! everyone is welcome <3
> 
> * [click here to join the discord server!](https://discord.gg/cQt8wWb)


	3. the Crescent is Blue

The keys jangled as you wrestled with the doorknob. Left? Right? You always forgot which way locked and unlocked the door. Pursing your lips, you gave the keys another try, then tested the knob again. Locked—even though you could’ve sworn you’d already tested the opposite direction. Sighing, you leered over at the plastic-clad doorbell—a taunting thing. Begrudgingly, you gave it a firm press, and through the solid oak door, it tittered melodiously. Patient, you pressed your ear to the door, keeping a light touch on the knob.

Some minutes later, it started to rattle in your hand. As soon as you heard the slide of the deadbolt, you turned the knob. Success!—Grinning, you swung the door open, raising your arm high above your head.

“Boss, I’m home~!” you sung. The scraping of claws slithered in your ear from the left, and you turned your head, quieting. Oh dear. Hesitantly, you rounded the door, setting your eyes upon the 6-inch tall skeleton scrambling up the wood. “Oh, uh.. Hey, Papyrus.”

“DO NOT ‘HEY, PAPYRUS’ ME, HUMAN!!” the bitty snarled. As if his anger were a stepstool, he suddenly fastened his grip on the deadbolt’s knob, digging his heels into the thin layer of polish upon the door. Craning his neck, the skeleton barked, “AND I’VE TOLD YOU SIX TIMES THIS WEEK: DO NOT ADDRESS ME AS ‘BOSS’!”

“Sorry, sorry,” you snickered. “I called you Papyrus after, didn’t I?” Offering a flat, open hand to the bitty, you smiled. “Thanks for letting me in.”

Huffing, the bitty launched off the door, landing perfectly at the center of your palm. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a column of bones along the door’s height. He edged the door shut, letting you give the final nudge with the heel of your boot.

“YOU ARE EARLY—TWO HOURS, 14 MINUTES AND SOME SECONDS EARLY,” Papyrus noted. “WHY? DID THE CITY HAVE NO SUITABLE MUSES FOR YOU?”

As you secured the door’s two locks, you shook your head. Crossing into the living room, you came to the couch. Quick to predict, Papyrus leapt ahead of you, stumbling onto the wrinkled leather armrest. When you fell back into the cushions, the tremor sent him rolling off, right into your thigh.

“Sorry,” you murmured.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” he spat, jumping to his feet. “SOMETHING _MUST_ HAVE HAPPENED WHILE YOU WERE AWAY! YOU ARE RARELY THIS CARELESS!”

You watched him grumble through his serrated teeth, smiling weakly as he fussed with the folds of his black turtleneck. Averting your gaze, you confessed. “I saw two bitties today.”

You could feel the air chill. Slipping your trench coat off, you tossed it over to the opposite end of the couch. You still hadn’t looked at Papyrus. Solemn, truly solemn, the bitty asked if you were successful. Hugging your arm close, you looked down at your lap in shame.

“I…” Your voice wavered. Shaking your head mechanically, you bent over yourself. “I saved them. But I didn’t. I don’t know if I really helped them or not…”

Papyrus’ eye-lights, a blood red by nature, smoldered in silence. They pulsed, slow and numb, unlike the twitches of his arm that he so desperately suppressed. Raising his arm with great control, he placed gentle, curving claws upon your thigh. The jittery jolts of your SOUL struck sparks in his eye-lights, causing a brief crimson flush to take over the bone that shaped his sockets. _Regret._ Hastily, he blinked the flush about his eyes away. Calmly, he uttered your name.

“I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU HAD DONE TO SEND YOURSELF HOME SO EARLY, BUT WHATEVER HAPPENED, I CAN ASSURE YOU IT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT.”

“I know it’s not…” Gritting your teeth, you dug your nails into your scalp. “It’s out of my control. I’m not taking it hard, but still…”

You were. For a SOUL of integrity, you loved to shirk the truth. Pressing his teeth together, Papyrus stared past the curtain of hair that shielded your expression. Although he had no clear sight of your grieving SOUL, he could feel its writhing under the restraints of your rational mind. His ribcage rose and fell, gradual and steady.

“COULD YOU IDENTIFY THEM? LINE? TYPE?”

Tucking your hair aside, you slapped yourself against the back of the couch. “Nope,” you sighed. “I was too quick. Acted on impulse.”

“YOU? ACT ON IMPULSE?” The bitty scoffed, eye sockets narrowing with amusement. “AS FAR AS I KNOW, YOUR INSTINCTS ONLY ACT TO VEX ME! YOU IMPRESS ME.”

“Don’t patronize me.” Rolling your eyes, you humored him with a wry grin. “At least, I’m a good runner.”

“YOU UNDERESTIMATE MY KIND,” Papyrus assured you. “SURVIVORS DO NOT LAST THIS LONG UNLESS THEY WERE MADE FOR IT. I CAN CONFIDENTLY SAY THAT WHOMEVER YOU HELPED TODAY IS MOST CERTAINLY GRATEFUL FOR YOUR GOOD HEART! AND IF NOT, THEY ARE FOOLISH!”

“I could’ve given them enough contact to last a few days, at least.”

“THAT IS _THEIR_ BLUNDER,” he spat venomously. “ALTHOUGH I COMMEND THESE SURVIVORS FOR LASTING TO THIS DAY, THEY MUST BE UNFORGIVABLY ARROGANT TO THINK THEMSELVES ABOVE YOUR GENEROSITY!”

“Like when I first met you?” you quipped. The bitty’s sockets snapped wide—too fast for your comfort, really—and in an instant, red streaked itself across his skull.

“I… I WILL NOT HUMOR THAT THOUGHT,” Papyrus grumbled. “ALTHOUGH… I WILL HUMBLY ADMIT THAT I WAS NOT THE MOST WELCOMING OF YOUR AID, EITHER.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. Maybe I lucked out,” you wondered hopelessly. “Befriending a Boss is pretty hard. Maybe that was an Edgy I was trying to help. Two, maybe.”

“UGH, THEY MUST BE,” the bitty groaned. “ONLY THOSE PATHETIC EXCUSES OF FELL ENTITY WOULD EVER BE SO IDIOTIC AS THEY. IF YOU HAD CAUGHT A SANSY OR A PAPY IN TROUBLE, I HAVE NO DOUBT THAT THEY WOULD HAVE COME HOME WITH YOU.”

“Even if they were Edgys, wouldn’t you have wanted me to rescue them..? An Edgy is supposed to be something like a younger brother to you, right?”

“AS MUCH AS I WOULD LIKE TO CLAIM MYSELF THE ELDER, NO. EDGYS WERE CREATED BEFORE ME, BUT NONETHELESS, I REFUSE TO THINK THEM ABOVE ME!”

“Okay, okay. Sorry, Your Greatness,” you drawled, waving your hands. “I’ll leave it. I did what I could.”

Pausing, Papyrus gazed up at you. Clacking his teeth shut, he listened to the hum of dissatisfaction from your quiet SOUL.

“MORE THAN ANY OTHER HUMAN I KNOW.”

Surprised, you smiled—pleasantly so. Carefully, you brushed your pinky over the back of his hand, while the rest of your hand hovered casually over your thigh. As if his hand were able to take up all that space underneath, he realized. Tension left his jaw, letting him return your smile. With natural grace, Papyrus turned his and your attention to the camera still loosely strapped to your body. In an instant, your face brightened. As you went off on a ramble of the morning sky’s gorgeous hues, the bitty took his hand away, content.

From the opposite end of the couch, buried deep in the shadowing folds of your trench coat, three eye-lights buzzed with life. They tracked every twitch and jerk the Boss bitty and you had to offer—which wasn’t much at all, actually. The two of you were full of.. laughter. Grins. Jokes, jabs, and tauntings. Every little interaction between you two called out a ribbon of deep blue or blurry white that flowed and weaved itself into the very air that kept you apart. It was.. entrancing.

One of the two witnesses dug his claws into the coat’s fabric, wondering if he, too, could receive the bell-like chimes of your voice. Upon the flourish of a particularly full blue ribbon, he started to crawl forth. He watched Papyrus reach out to that ribbon, watched it fade into Papyrus’ very being, watched the features of your face scrunch up with delight.

Warm, the witness thought. The tips of his yellowed phalanges saw light. Before the back of his hand could even hope to feel that faint warmth, he was jerked back into the pocket’s darkness.

“What Do You Think You’re Doing?” his accomplice hissed. “Did You Hollow Your Skull? That Boss Could’ve Spotted You!”

“i don’t see the issue,” he muttered under his breath. “not like the Boss can’t sense us or anythin’.”

“I Refuse To Take That Risk, And I Expect You To Do The Same,” his accomplice snapped. “If You Are So Desperate To Commit Suicide, You Should Have Done It Under The Boot.”

“not my fault i got self-preservation.” Sighing, he settled onto his ribcage, tucking his lanky arms under his skull. “that human.. are ya sure it’s her?”

His accomplice said nothing. His single eye-light, still sharp and pointed even in dimmed brilliance, bored into the center of your being. Eventually, he stated, “I Thought So. The Expressions Of Her SOUL Are So.. Stifled.”

“she left a stronger impression on ya. don’t tell me my brother’s actually losin’ his touch,” he chuckled lowly.

“Preposterous! The Brilliant Sans Is Never Wrong,” his brother growled, “Especially Not With Humans. Whether Or Not It Is Her Does Not Matter. What Matters Is That We Get Contact.”

“how we gonna do that? that Boss ain’t really a pushover.” He recalled the array of bones that the Boss had conjured for the closing of a mere door. It must’ve been at least two hundred bones the Boss called forth—a perfect line-up, as Sans might’ve put it. Not to mention, that Boss had the strength and control to evenly distribute force to all those bones…

_‘never thought i’d meet a bitty stronger than Sans.’_

A similar train of thought must’ve been circling the inside of Sans’ skull. Whatever calculations, possibilities, and who-knew-what-else were going on in Sans’ mind had gathered together in a single bead of glimmering sweat—violet. Nudging Sans, the lanky skeleton flashed the golden canine planted into his skull.

“relax, bro. thinkin’ so much, you’re wastin’ magic on sweat,” he remarked lazily. “that’s not gonna appeal to the lady.”

“I..!” A similar purple, glaringly bright and vivid in the black of the pocket, dusted across the skeleton’s face. “How Dare You Think Me Low Enough To Want To–! To _Kiss Up_ To That Human! I Would Never!”

“’ey, i didn’t say anythin’,” he shrugged. Looking up to your beaming face once more, he asked, “ya got a plan?”

Sneering, Sans tilted his head, pointing his nasal ridge to the skies. “Of Course I Do! First, We Must Leave This Dreaded Pocket. Her Clothing Smells Of Musk.”

“i like it.”

“You Would,” Sans scoffed. “Papyruses—Human Lovers, All Of You.”

“can’t help it, bro,” the skeleton chuckled, winking. “we’re too lovable.”

“Are You Suggesting I Am Not ‘Endearment’ Material?” Sans scowled at his brother, only to stagger at the shift of the couch. Immediately, the two brothers looked outside, catching sight of your leaving figure. The Boss was perched upon your shoulder, standing dutifully straight as you ascended the stairs to the second floor.

Wrapping his arm around the neck of the golden-toothed Papyrus, Sans vanished with him in tow. They reappeared on the living room’s glass coffee table. After separation, the two stowaways traded glances. Nodding at his brother, Papyrus hopped down to the carpet floor. His bare feet relished in the caress of woven carpet. Pleased, the lanky skeleton took his time, curling and stretching his toes against the material. Still standing above him, Sans rolled his one eye-light.

“Don’t Get Caught In This Human’s Luxuries, Brother. They Are Not For Us.”

“…right.”

“I Will Scope Out The Upper Floor, While You Tend To This Floor. Do _Not_ Dawdle On This.”

“you got it, bro.” Papyrus flung up a half-hearted thumbs-up that soon relaxed into an open hand.

With a flick of his wrist, his feet slipped out from under him, letting gravity drag him to the couch’s base. Papyrus glimpsed about quickly then ran up, jumping past the back of the couch and into the open air. Hand held up high, he watched the approaching kitchen counter intently. Ran by second nature, he craned his hand back, and gravity shifted upon him again—sideways to diagonal to upright. The landing was rough—a roll onto hard granite—but not too bad.

“Be Careful,” Sans uttered. Papyrus looked up, finding his brother already halfway up the stairs. Damn, did he envy him.

“don’t burn yourself out,” warned Papyrus. Sans simpered, his laugh echoing faintly in the open space of the house.

 _‘As If,’_ the skeleton thought. Smirking, he rolled his shoulders back, then, with the mere wish of it, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * on Saturdays, the egg returns with a new chapter. the egg's schedule is fickle, though; consistency is impossible to guarantee. patience and support are much appreciated <3
> 
> * while readers wait for a new chapter, the egg has provided a discord server. talk with the author, fellow bitty lovers, and get access to exclusive content (drabbles, one-shots, art, etc.) and interactions with the bitties! everyone is welcome <3
> 
> * [click here to join the discord server!](https://discord.gg/cQt8wWb)


	4. He Broke His Baton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **[ Trigger Warning ]** Mentions of blood and violence.

Blinking past blindness, Sans braced his legs. Mere seconds before awareness, his feet clacked onto rock, shocking him out of concentration. He tumbled over the new surface, digging his claws into trenches of grout. Looking about wildly, he surveyed the earth of black and white. It was blemished, he realized—smeared, splotched, with hues frozen in time—just like the kitchen counter he last saw his brother on. The smoothened rock was cold. As he flattened and steadied his feet upon a square, shivers slithered up through to his skull.

 _‘Like Snow.’_ He had gotten used to the plastic covering of the carpeted stairs. Frigidness was just a nuisance.

As Sans looked about, the sight of a glittering mirage seized him. Crystals, he noted. Glimpsing over his shoulder, the small skeleton neared the wooden railing—just to get a better look. Strung by silver wires, droplets of seemingly solid light loomed from the ceiling and over the front entrance. Beyond the grand display, Sans’ single, star-shaped eye-light saw through what might’ve been an infinite span of glass. He could see miles—miles upon miles. Patches of green, quaint houses, an open sky marked by the wired poles drilled into the earth—all so far that such sights actually faded into blue. Sans had never seen so far in all his life…

_How disturbing._

Disgusted, Sans hastily retreated to the center of the tiled land. Your voice permeated the air, shooting a jolt through him. He teleported, pressing himself into the trimming of the nearest wall. A couple feet away was an open doorway. Your words rang shamelessly clear, only partly distorted by the idiotically open arrangement of the second floor. Off the walls, the tiles, the far-off glass of even farther blue, the whiny pitches of your voice just bounded towards Sans. You grated his very _skull._

“…have to? I already went on a walk downtown!”

“A WALK THAT YOU CUT SHORT BY OVER TWO HOURS! IS IT REALLY SO STRENUOUS FOR YOU TO COMMIT TO YOUR MORNING ROUTINE?”

Sans crept forward, inching along the wooden trimming.

“If it was my morning routine, I’d have done this for 30 days by now.”

“DO NOT TRY TO REASON WITH ME! I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT ON AVERAGE, IT TAKES 66 DAYS TO MAKE OR BREAK A HABIT!”

He dug his phalanges into the very edge of the door frame. As he leered around the corner, Sans’ bones struggled against sheer discipline. You sat on the carpet of your bedroom, casting a shadow over the bitty that had been so busy berating you.

“I thought it took twenty to break a habit?” you mused.

“I–!” The Boss lowered his hand, tapping a phalange on his jawbone. “HM. IS THAT SO? WHERE IS YOUR DEVICE?” He reached up with an open hand, fearless with his demands. “LET US SEE WHO IS RIGHT. IF I AM CORRECT, YOU ARE TO COMMIT TO DOUBLE YOUR INTENDED ROUTINE!”

Emptiness poisoned Sans. Numb, he watched every thread of your expression shift: a downward curl, a scrunch, a wrinkle—a _flame._ In your eyes—a spark. _Anger._

“What?!” You swung your arms up, gaping with disbelief. “I can barely pull off 10 push-ups, and now you want me to do 20?!”

“I DO NOT SEE WHY NOT.”

“I can do double the sit-ups if I try, but I am _not_ doing 20 push-ups.”

“YOU ARE FULLY CAPABLE OF IT IF YOU TRY!” the Boss barked. He shook a vicious finger at you, practically spitting his scowl at you. “IT IS THAT PESSIMIST ATTITUDE OF YOURS THAT WEIGHS YOU DOWN!”

Sans stared in shock. What was that Boss even thinking?! Yelling, scolding, _criticizing_ a human so openly? Sans could only dream of that privilege, that freedom, that _right;_ yet here he was, a witness to a Boss shaming his human as if _she_ were the pet. Sans didn’t think it possible.

_‘He Was Comforting Her Just A Moment Ago.’_

Sans’ gaze drifted. In his mind, he was uprooting all the knowledge his void of a skull had retained over the years. There wasn’t much to say about Bosses. They were rude, presumptuous, conceited, unpopular—as much as they loved to insist otherwise. Humans rarely picked them. Edgys were always the more preferred, biting and troublemaking aside; they didn’t feel so much like a supervisor, as Sans had heard some humans put it. No human liked a bitty that seemed to _assert_ itself as dominant in the relationship of owner and pet. Eventually, a Boss always squashed a human’s patience. Returns were common.

 _‘What Makes This Boss Any Different?’_ Sans glared into the bitty’s cracked skull, indignant. If anything, this Boss was the worst! Never before had he heard a Boss be so bold and get away **unharmed.** Why weren’t you lashing back?! Why weren’t you slapping that damned bitty back into place?!

_‘Why?’_

In complete mockery of Sans’ bewilderment, the Boss started out of the room. You, the human, followed suit. Obedient, Sans noted. Unquestioning. The Boss had made some sort of statement, something about settling this “dispute” once and for all. You, his owner, just _laughed._ You giggled, bright and light.

“Alright, alright,” you said. “Should I let you do the search to make sure I don’t lie my way out of exercise?”

“NO NEED TO OFFER. I ALREADY PLANNED TO DO SO.”

Another laugh. Your banter was useless. At best, it served to distract you and the Boss from Sans’ presence. As the two of you went back downstairs, Sans strode into your room.

Once he felt ready to, he teleported onto your work desk, where mountains of envelopes resided. The skeleton spared cursory glances at a few, but nothing more. Pencils and pens were chaotically strewn about, lied out like corpses on a battlefield of journals. Your writing and some peculiar doodles marred lined pages, but unfortunately, they were useless. Your bulletin board of photos, ranging from starry nights to the crests of snow upon a car window—also useless. Your bookshelf, harboring more paintings and binders and brushes than actual books, was also useless. Your photos—useless. Your clock—useless. Your window… Just another frame of blue.

 _‘Her Bitty Must Not Sleep With Her,’_ Sans concluded. He stood atop your bed frame, scanning the room one last time. Despite the strange intimacy you and the Boss seemed to share, he could not find any evidence of bitty accommodations. There were no stairways or ladders—not even a miniature bed for the Boss. The fact placed a sharp shimmer in the five corners of Sans’ eye-light.

 _‘Every Bitty Has His Place,’_ the skeleton thought triumphantly. His search of your room did not tell much, but it told enough.

Satisfied, Sans worked his way down your bed, then left for the freezing tiles. His steps seemed to echo, much like your voice had. Only, your voice was no longer there. The silence was eerie, wrong even. Out of nowhere, a chord of fear struck past his ribs.

_‘Papyrus.’_

Instantly, Sans teleported to the railing. Ignoring the chandelier, he bowed his head in between two bars, desperately searching below. He spotted you in a room that opened to the front area. Cadences, runs—an entire symphony of terror was stemming from that room.

_‘Papyrus.’_

He teleported. His foot landed on the edge of a step, slipping out from under him. _Plastic._ He miscalculated. Recklessly, he sheathed his claws into the next step down, then teleported again. He hid behind one of the countless bars of the stair railing, peering at your back.

_‘Where Is He?’_

Sans couldn’t make out anything. You were standing by this humongous, lifeless, three-legged beast of black. Its back was its mouth, opening wide as you hooked your fingers under its lip and raised it high. Inside, an entire array of strings stretched in and out of sight, claiming a thick, organic frame of gold as its territory. As you ducked your head to examine the beast’s interior, a speck of white clambered out. In the speck’s hasty escape, Sans caught sight of a familiar, twinkling canine.

Passing in and out of magic’s black, Sans answered the call of his brother’s SOUL. The moment that Sans popped into Papyrus’ view, the two of them latched arms, then disappeared without a trace. Black opened itself into paleness, smashing their bodies into drywall.

“ow…”

Sans couldn’t bother to stifle an apology, let alone think of one. His head ached too much.

“What was that?”

Both skeletons peeled themselves off the plastic covering of the stairs, rigid at the sound of your voice. The beast that Papyrus had climbed out of let out a hearty groan as you closed its strung maw. You wandered, stopping just before the staircase with confusion overriding your features. You were just in the skeletons’ sight, just as _they_ were in yours. As Sans grabbed ahold of Papyrus’ arm, ready to make one last jump through space, the Boss bitty’s voice cut through the air.

“I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY RESOLVED OUR DISAGREEMENT! CEASE YOUR PIANO INSPECTION FOR A MOMENT, AND COME COMPLETE YOUR DAILY EXERCISE!”

Dread distracted you. “What’s the verdict?” you asked, walking out of sight.

“IT TURNS OUT THAT IT IS INDEED 20 DAYS TO BREAK A HABIT—21, TO BE EXACT. THUS, YOU ARE SUBJECT TO ONLY THE USUAL.”

“Oh, thank God.”

The rest of your conversation sputtered out into the background. The brothers stared intently into one another’s eye sockets, heaving through their adrenaline. Unexpectedly, yet naturally, Sans fell back against the drywall he had slammed them into. Resting his arm against his skull, the skeleton wiped away the faintly glowing beads of violet that had gathered.

“What The Hell Was That..?”

Papyrus could only muster half of a shrug. “curiosity.”

“The Fuck Did That Thing Have To Make You Want To Climb In?” Sans growled. “Did I Not Specify To You To Be _Careful?”_

“ya wouldn’t like where else i been, then,” Papyrus chuckled. He actually had the _gall_ to smirk. What Sans wouldn’t do to slap it off his skull.

“Did You Manage To Find Anything Useful?” Sans sighed.

“eh. _i_ found some stuff.”

 _‘Nothing, Then,’_ Sans thought. Frowning bitterly, the skeleton threw his smoldering glare at the distant kitchen counter. Just a while ago, he had been standing in this exact spot on the stairs, confident that at least _he_ would return to Papyrus with something of actual use.

“This Human Irks Me,” Sans stated. “Her Bedroom Has Plenty of Places To Hide In. We Will Sleep With Her For One Night, Then We Will Leave.”

“bro, have ya checked outside? we’re not exactly in the city anymore.”

“How Dull Do You Think I Am?” Sans spat. “She’s Bound To Return To The City Soon—Certainly Within A Week. The Drive Here Is A Fair Predictor Of That.”

“what? not gonna sleep with her after tonight?” Papyrus sniggered. His eye sockets were perpetually indifferent, even before the illusionary flare of Sans’ eye-light. “c’mon, bro. can’t let your emotions get in the way of needs, right?”

Rolling his eye-light, Sans slumped against the drywall, scraping his spine against it. “Humans Are Hardly _Needs,_ Brother. They Are Just An Inconvenience.”

“sure…” Papyrus trailed off, allowing his surroundings to trickle back into his senses. “whatever ya say.”

From the living room, the Boss bitty’s voice rung out. He was spitting out another string of demands: hurry up, be faster—the day wasn’t going to wait for you. You were trying to deflect his persistence, insisting that you weren’t stalling. You’d be back down soon—just had to change your clothes. Narrowing his sockets, Papyrus shook his attention back to a proper state, trying to piece together what he had heard. Then, the stairs quaked underneath him.

“w-wha–?!”

You started to storm up the stairs, throwing the brothers off their feet twelve times over.

“Shit..!” Sans exclaimed. “Papyrus!”

His brother reached out; Papyrus tried to grab him. For a second’s worth, their hands were together. Darkness started to penetrate his vision, then shattered. His SOUL, his body, fell back onto plastic—never left. Sucking in a gasp, Papyrus stood and swung his skull about in a stifled craze. Several swivels in, he stopped. His empty sockets met full, wide ones. They weren’t above him; they were eye-level.

You blinked at him. You stared at him. Before you was.. a skeleton. Scrawny, gangly, yet confidently stiff, this.. Papyrus look-alike stood before you. He was veiled by what might as well have been bare threads. Somehow, though, he had gotten ahold of a golden replacement for one canine—his left one—as well as a rather time-worn red collar with a tarnished buckle.

 _‘A bitty,’_ you realized. In your numbing shock, some part of you managed to link this bitty before you with the two bitties you had saved earlier this morning. _‘He followed me home.’_

As your expression gained this inexplicable softness, a warm dusting of daffodil yellow covered the bitty’s face. Parting your lips, you whispered the softest hello to him. You reached out, slow and purposeful. Rather than let your hand loom over him, you faced your palm to him. You curled a finger towards him ever so slightly, extending your arm.

“I won’t hurt you,” you murmured. As the bitty stood perfectly still, you continued to advance. Then–

**“AHH!!!”**

Your shrill splintered the air. Papyrus stumbled back through dry heaves, watching your blood pool onto the plastic covering of the stairs.

_‘Sans.’_

His brother manifested before him in the blink of an eye, nearly overwhelming Papyrus in the tsunami of magic that poured out of Sans’ SOUL.

“Stay Back!!” Sans hollered. He rose his hand, summoning a barrage of bones above you. One-ended, split and cracked bones—intended to **kill.**

“Sans!” Papyrus seized his brother’s wrist, only to be brought down by the swing of his whole arm. A flurry of white whizzed down along with him.

_**KRRK!...** _

The world was still. The house was quiet. The air rung in skulls and ears.

In the distance, hung high in the dining room, a cuckoo clock sang its chimes. Meanwhile, an army of dragon-esque skulls hovered in beat to the chimes. They crumbled apart ever so slowly, littering their pieces upon your back as the splintered bones speared through them.. vanished. Twinkling purple faded into the air, as skulls’ remnants dissipated into a withering crimson. When the last of the skulls had fallen, Sans could see the cuckoo clock above your head, right across the house.

The tenth and final chime resonated within him, and a little bird poked its head out of the clock’s doors, painted an inappropriately pleasant blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * on Saturdays, the egg returns with a new chapter. the egg's schedule is fickle, though; consistency is impossible to guarantee. patience and support are much appreciated <3
> 
> * while readers wait for a new chapter, the egg has provided a discord server. talk with the author, fellow bitty lovers, and get access to exclusive content (drabbles, one-shots, art, etc.) and interactions with the bitties! everyone is welcome <3
> 
> * [click here to join the discord server!](https://discord.gg/cQt8wWb)


	5. Ignore the Cards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **[ Trigger Warning ]** Mention of blood. Descriptions of violence.

You clenched—unclenched. A shudder rippled through you. It hurt. By God, it hurt..! You couldn’t hear anything. Barely saw anything. The pulse, the rush, of your racing heart clanged in your head, reverberating. It traveled through neurons, nerves, zipping through shock-stricken muscles and bones, then gushed out into this mad stream of red.

In a sickly dark pool, blood trickled out of your palm. It clung to your skin, the curves of your wrist, maybe stained your stagnant sleeve. Blind, you tried to scrape the sources of these stains—close them, heal them—hoping the flow would stop. Every touch was a nip, a sting, that forced a flinch out of your crooked fingers. Your tendons, exposed by broken skin, screamed. The bones—that bitty’s bones!—still _burned!_ They were white, hot!—as if they were still skewered through your very flesh!

You didn’t know they could do that. You didn’t know that bitties could _hurt_ people. You didn’t know…

Quivering, you lifted your head. Numb as you were dumb, you searched for the source of your pain. All you could see were two wide, gaping mouths of black. Mouths?—No.. Sockets, eye sockets. Black meant.. something. You weren’t sure what.

Deafened by the pump of your heart, you were oblivious to the bitty that had ascended the stairs so desperately. The puffs that slipped past his slack jaw, you could barely process. The terror that strung and chained his SOUL, you couldn’t sense. When he placed a hand upon your arm, you didn’t react. He pushed a little; you jumped. The stairs—a slope; you slipped. Smack the railing, grope the air, gasp for sight, **freeze.** Trapped, panting, you frantically shook your head.

_‘Where am I? What’s happening?! What–’_

“What’s going on..?” you whispered. A heavy, sullen warmth had filled the center of your chest, hollow yet solid. It wrapped about a fullness within you, guiding you to the floor with care. Stunned, you lifted your chin.

Your eyes fell upon the pillar of white that stood on the steps. His eye-lights were tiny, scarlet embers—the brightest you’ve ever seen them at such a distance. He was panting too. Slowly, the bitty lowered his arm, and his phalanges curled into a fist.

“HUMAN. GO TREAT YOUR HAND.”

“P.. Papyrus.” You rose to your feet. Shaky, you took a step forward.

“NOW!” he snarled.

“The bitties– L-Let me talk to them–!”

“NO!” Papyrus swung his arm forth, and you flew back. You hit the kitchen counter, ceasing your crash with your bloodied hand. Cold sparks shot through your arm, pushing a cry against clenched teeth.

“I FORBID YOU! I WILL NOT HAVE YOU GET HURT AGAIN! LEAVE! **NOW!”**

That warmth was back. It threatened to crush you.

 _‘But he won’t.’_ He wouldn’t. Watching the bitty, you loosened your grip on the icy granite. The rip of stubborn, wet blood tore through you.

“Okay…” you exhaled. “I’ll go. Don’t do anything rash, okay..?”

Your SOUL clung to your words. It wriggled under magic’s hold, pricking back at its captor. Papyrus fought back a blink, letting only a twitch slip through. Hastily, he dropped his arm, releasing you. You should’ve been moving, should’ve left, but you didn’t. You stared at him. Even though he severed the connection to your SOUL, he could hear your pleading in his head. Not even pleading—a demand. But you were soft; he was not.

“GO.”

Suspicion glazing your eyes, you rushed to the restroom. The moment that you were past the doorway, Papyrus crooked then flicked his hand, slamming the door shut. Flitting his eye-lights up, the bitty heaved himself over one last stair—effortless. He stood at his full height, facing the pair of intruders on the stairs’ landing: a Sans drenched in sweat and a second bitty.

“YOU LOOK HORRENDOUS,” Papyrus spat. “AM I SUPPOSED TO ADDRESS YOU PATHETIC EXCUSES OF BITTIES AS FELLOW SURVIVORS?”

A dim, violet star manifested in the Sans’ eye socket. Boldly, the skeleton raised his arm. “I Did Not Mean Any Harm–“

“HARM?!” Magic whipped out in a roar, hurling the two intruders against the wall. Eye-lights aflame in crimson, Papyrus craned his hand, contorting the bitties’ SOULS under his grasp. Yellow and violet leapt out of black, feeding off the instinct of fear.

“YOU DEALT MUCH MORE THAN HARM! YOUR MAGIC, YOUR INTENT, IS FAR, _FAR_ BEYOND ANY DESIRE OF HARM! YOU ARE TWISTED! IMMORAL! GUILTLESS! YOU WANTED TO KILL. YOU WANTED TO BURY YOUR BONES, YOUR MALICE, IN _MY_ HUMAN.”

Grunting, the Sans forced his blazing eye-light to focus upon the Boss. “I Had No Choice..!”

His starry eye-light swelled with fury, just as his magic—foreign, new—lashed out against Papyrus’ control. _They were both new._ Papyrus couldn’t recognize his horrible twin’s or the Sans’ magic. The golden-toothed bitty was trying to snipe his captor’s magic at the source, right at the SOUL. All the while, the Sans was trying to infect and _cripple_ him from the inside out. They were strings—hoped to bind then shred his assaulter to pieces.

“i-it’s my fault..! i approached her..!” the lanky bitty sputtered out. “Sans was just– h-he was just tr-trying to protect me..!”

Lifting his other hand, Papyrus tossed his twin aside. The Sans’ expression jumped alive, breaking out in another wave of sweat as his brother’s back broke across a corner of a wooden post. “Leave Him Alone!” shouted the Sans. “He Has Nothing To Do With This!”

Papyrus adjusted his magic accordingly, concentrating on the smaller skeleton. Tendrils of violet seemed to whip and crack through the flow of magic, yearning to return the ruthless hold upon their source. As those tendrils stretched further and further, though, their very source seemed to fade in the clutch of crimson magic. The Sans was expending his very SOUL.

 _‘FOR HIM TO THINK HE IS A THREAT TO ME,’_ Papyrus scoffed. He had forgotten how insolent Sanses could be.

“THE NOTION OF A BROTHER ALWAYS SEEMED SO BURDENSOME TO ME,” the Boss bitty mused. “ULTIMATELY, IT IS JUST A TACK OF VULNERABILITY FOR THE MORE SUPERIOR BITTIES. PERHAPS,” he paused, meeting the Sans’ eye-light, “I SHOULD DEAL THE SAME FEAR THAT YOU DEALT ME.”

Out of nowhere, a last flush of magic flooded out of the Sans’ SOUL, slapping the foreign hold off itself. The bitty dropped onto the landing, heaving as he scrambled onto his feet. A single bone slewed itself at Papyrus, only to break through a final dragon’s skull. Chuckling, Papyrus offered a wicked grin to the bitty.

“YOU ARE A WEAK AND FOOLISH BITTY.”

The skull remained until the Sans’ weapon had erupted with cracks of seeping violet. The star in the Sans’ eye socket flickered and crackled pathetically, just as he stumbled forward then back. What a disappointment.

“YOU CANNOT EVEN PROTECT THE ONE YOU CARE FOR,” Papyrus remarked. “HOW CAN YOU HOPE TO ATTACK IF YOU CANNOT DEFEND THE LIFE YOU RISK?”

The Sans fell to his knees, fighting for breath. He shouldn’t have been—no lungs, no need, just the SOUL that fueled him, **barely** fueled him. He was hollow, winded, wrestling for one last burst of magic to help his brother. In glorious strain, purple fluttered in the cracks of the Sans’ skull. Then, his arms wavered. He collapsed.

“Sans! S-Sans?! wake up!” his brother blurted out. Papyrus released him without a word, letting the bitty crawl to Sans’ aid. There was shaking, light hitting, begging, bargaining—even some scolding. Like a Papy, Papyrus noted. He never liked those naïve embarrassments.

All of a sudden, his twin turned to him. “y-you have to help him..!” he stuttered out. “he– he’s not as durable! please! h-he really needs her– you– your human!”

“HE DESERVES TO DUST,” Papyrus spat. “YOU ARE A PAPYRUS. I AM CERTAIN THAT WHATEVER YOU WERE DOING, YOU SAW—OR, AT LEAST, FELT—THAT HE WAS AIMING FOR HER NECK. HAD I NOT STOPPED HIM, MY HUMAN WOULD HAVE SUFFERED _FATALLY._ ”

“he didn’t mean it! i-i mean, yes, he did, b-but if he knew the situation—i-if he saw her face!—he would’ve never..!”

“CERTAINLY,” scoffed Papyrus. “VICTIMS CLAIM ANYTHING TO SURVIVE. ALTHOUGH, THE SURVIVORS THAT I KNOW HAVE HIGHER STANDARDS FOR THEMSELVES. YOU ARE JUST… _VERMIN._ ”

The intruder blinked at Papyrus in disbelief. His eye-lights, honey-gold rings floating in seas of black, had never looked so frayed. Frantically, the skeleton grappled onto his brother, twice as hard as before. Under his yellowed phalanges, the hiccuping buzz of a fading SOUL comforted him ever so weakly. He pulled Sans to his chest.

“your human,” the bitty stated. “she’ll save him. i.. i can feel it. she cares for us–!”

His teeth clacked shut—regret. The Boss glared, blank-socketed. As he stepped forward, his twin fell back. He raised his hand, his claws, ready to grab the rags his twin called clothes and slam that insolence out of his very being, but then–! A creak. The door. You.

Posthaste, Papyrus leapt and climbed up one of the stair railing’s bars. He heaved himself up onto the oak handrail, planting his boots upon the flatter part of its surface. Red caught his eye in an instant. It was growing, he realized. The toilet paper wrapped tight about your hand hardly did anything.

“HUMAN! WHAT IS THAT PITIFUL DISPLAY OF TREATMENT?! YOU ARE STILL BLEEDING PROFUSELY!”

“We don’t have the materials for proper treatment,” you muttered back. “We don’t have any gauze. Most I could do was disinfect.”

“ARE YOU APPLYING PRESSURE?” Papyrus strode down the handrail, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “YOU NO LONGER SEEM AS SHOCKED AS BEFORE.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled awkwardly. “You know me; I’m a wimp. I’ve gotten the bleeding to die down, at least. Wounds aren’t as bad as we thought, actually.”

The bitty narrowed his already sharp sockets at you. “EXPLAIN.”

Upon his request, you undid your less-than-adequate bandaging—delicately, for you could only be so graceful with your non-dominant hand. After dabbing away the newly budding crimson, you showed the array of punctures to Papyrus. Five points, he noted—just like the Sans’ eye-light. The Sans had somehow landed near-perfect marks upon the edges of your palm: one for each finger. The one by your thumb had turned out as more of a gash: victim to the splintered nature of the Sans’ bones. A shiver of disgust nearly whipped Papyrus off the handrail—almost. He stifled it to a sneer.

“He actually didn’t hit too deep,” you chirped. Out of nowhere, you quirked the joints of four fingers, leaving the thumb be. “It still stings, but I think I’ll recover unscarred.”

Quaking where he stood, Papyrus snatched the wad of toilet paper out of your other hand. Captive to his magic, the wad found its way to your reddened hand then plopped itself over the wells of still-flowing blood. “YOU ARE SPEAKING TOO LIGHTLY OF YOUR INJURIES, HUMAN. FOR ALL YOU KNOW, THAT SANS SEVERED YOUR MUSCLES OR NERVES WITH HIS BONES! YOUR HAND MIGHT NEVER RETURN TO ITS PROPER POTENTIAL! YOU’RE STUDYING ANATOMY, AREN'T YOU? YOU SHOULD KNOW HOW DELICATE THE HUMAN BODY IS!”

“Hey,” you started, “I know. I’m not dismissing what he did.”

“IT CERTAINLY SOUNDS LIKE IT,” the bitty snapped. “YOU CAN’T EVEN BRING YOURSELF TO WAIT FOR THE BLOOD TO CEASE BEFORE YOU STEP OUT!”

“That’s only because I’m worried..!” you blurted out. “Look at my hand! He could’ve done worse, right?”

“AND HE WAS GOING TO IF I HAD NOT REACTED IN TIME!” Papyrus spat. Whipping his arm out, he locked an accusing phalange on the two intruders. “DO YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF I DID NOT RUSH TO YOUR SIDE AS SOON AS I DID? HE WOULD HAVE IMPALED YOU. HE WOULD HAVE SKEWERED YOU! IF IT WERE NOT FOR ME, YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN **_DUSTED!_** ”

The last word ripped out of the bitty with an awful weight. It stretched his vertebrae thin and far to utter his fear. It left him with an ache that he clenched his teeth at. How stupid, some part of you must have thought. Bitties killing humans—What a joke. It should’ve been, but he felt it. The moment that he seized that Sans’ SOUL, he knew it was no joke. There was this– this frantic **_need_** to see your limp body. That Sans needed to see you dead! He needed to see you at his tiny, insignificantly bare feet to even _hope_ to be at peace! Even.. even **_he_** had never wished such a thing. He never wanted blood. He just wanted…

The bitty looked up towards you. Your brow was stitched together by sternness. It sat upon the half-lidded gaze you gave him. Carefully, you rested your cheek upon the end of the handrail. Eerily—certainly not—calm, Papyrus retreated to you. When he set both hand and skull near your temple, he could feel the tension in his joints dissolve. The warmth of your SOUL flooded into him like air—deep, engulfing, _needed._

“You’re worried,” you whispered. “They’ve scared you.”

“I AM DOING WHAT I KNOW YOU LACK THE HEART FOR.” Papyrus straightened his back, peering down into your eye. Hair had swept over your face.

“You did what you needed to,” you insisted. “Please, Papyrus. I saw that other bitty. He means no harm.”

“AND YOU EXPECT THE SAME OF HIS BROTHER? YOU’RE AN ABSOLUTE FOOL IF YOU THINK SO.”

“Now isn’t the time to be making decisions or assumptions, Papyrus.” Lifting your head, you took a step back. Before he could argue back, you directed the bitty’s attention to the kitchen counter. You had never seen his eye-lights shrink so fast. He glanced up at you, then at your hand, then at the counter again.

Pushing past the faint hiccups of his ribcage, Papyrus faced you properly. “YOU ARE NOT COMPARING ME TO HIM.”

“I’m not,” you assured, “but there’s a point to what I’m saying. You’re impulsive. You’re brash. You mean well, but you are not in the right mind to be making decisions for these bitties.” Reaching out, you went to graze your fingertip along the ridges of his hand. “Let’s help them recover first, okay..? When we’re calm, cool, we can discuss what to do—just you and me.”

He slapped the gesture aside.

“I HAVE NO INTEREST IN BEING PATRONIZED OUT OF MY VIEWS.” Squaring his shoulders, Papyrus mustered up one final glare. “DO NOT BLAME ME IF THAT EDGY-FIED THING YOU CALL A PAPY FINISHES THE JOB.”

Climbing down, he wrapped his body about one of the stair railing’s bars. He slid down in uneven stages, subject to the bar’s corners and curves, but ultimately reached the bottom just fine. Pattering along the floorboards, he left, taking a certain fullness of your chest with him. Not that he’d care to know.

Sighing, you craned your head ever so slightly. Your still-nameless intruder stood trembling on the edge of the landing, his brother lying limp in his arms. Staring at the smaller skeleton, you fixed your grip on the toilet paper. Abrasion won itself a stifled wince.

“Let’s try this again,” you asked the Papyrus. “Your brother. He needs contact, right?”

The intruder nodded his head vigorously, nearly stepping off the landing. His jaw fell open, but his haste had no voice. You mustered the smallest smile, then ascended the stairs. Stepping around the dry, sickly pond on the plastic covering, you started to bend down to meet the bitty’s stature. As you grew closer, he stumbled back, gaping at you with some kind of horror.

 _‘Shit.’_ Pursing your lips, you sat back on the next tier of stairs. Blowing stray hair out of your face, you flashed a crooked grin.

“Sorry,” you murmured. “I’d make myself look less threatening right now, but I’m a bit too exhausted for that.” In your hand, the toilet paper cried of silent wear. You’d need another clean bundle soon.

“Where would you like to go?” you asked the bitty. “I was thinking my bedroom for comfort’s sake, but.. maybe that’s too much for you right now. Would you rather head to the couch or something..?”

The Papyrus tilted his skull towards the kitchen counter, where he knew the couch sat only some feet away from. As you started to stand, he dashed in close at a startling speed. Tripping back onto the stairs, you looked at him in shock, then followed his upwards gesture. Bedroom, he seemed to insist—please. He must’ve not wanted to meet the Boss that had taken the main floor as his grounds.

“Alright,” you chuckled. “Upstairs, it is.” For the third time, you offered your hand to him, bending far enough to lay the back of it upon the plastic covering. “I’m used to carrying by hand or shoulder. If you’d prefer something else, we can compromise..?”

Shaking his head, the bitty clambered into the safety of your palm. He staggered as you rose to your feet, taking to his knees for greater stability. Apologizing, you made sure to give him a smooth departure to your work desk. As you swept all your bills, pencils, and books aside, the bitty watched, half-drawn by the peculiarities of your room. Just as he started to settle, a clang shook the desk’s foundation, knocking the bitty onto his pelvis.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” you blurted out. “I’m so used to Papyrus dealing with my carelessness. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

You set a bitty-sized bed on the desk, startling the poor bitty even further. It seemed luxuriously made, far beyond the usual skeleton’s bed. Some dust, time’s dust, fluttered off at a quick puff of your lungs and your following fuss. You fluffed the pillow with a gentle finger, flicked wrinkles out of the bright red comforter, tested the plastic frame for sturdiness—a procedural thing for you, it seemed. When you were done, your hand vanished under the desk. The cluttering roll of a closing drawer resonated.

“This is the last bed Papyrus owned. Comfiest I could manage with his standards,” you joked bitterly. “Hopefully, your brother won’t mind this.”

As you shifted your sheepish gaze to the bitty, you caught him blinking furiously in this wrestle to keep the radiance of his eye-lights. You blinked back once, dumbfounded. Abruptly, he started rattling his entire body from feet to skull, forcing _something_ out of his bones. The Sans nearly tumbled out of his arms at the drastic shiver, but his brother’s grip kept him stable. Once he was done, the Papyrus tucked the Sans into the bed, practically covering all of his vertebrae with the comforter.

“Will he be alright with just skull rubs..?” You lifted your index finger, pausing at the Papyrus’ gaze. He bored his eye sockets into your gesture with mind-numbing intensity, sending a chill up your spine. When he finally looked away, you took a stalled breath of relief. You waited until he nodded to place your finger pad upon the Sans’ skull. For a moment, you thought you heard a groan of complaint; the Papyrus seemed unfazed. Must’ve been your imagination.

Working in silence, you traced gentle, uniform circles upon the curve of the Sans’ skull. It was a calming thing, really. You were a drunk metronome—swooping in towards gravity’s pull, stalling through the incline, then pausing at the peak of the loop—again and again. At first, the edge of your nail occasionally hooked the crack that stemmed from the skeleton’s right socket. You soon learned the proper angle your finger needed to be to prevent it entirely.

 _‘It would’ve been something like this,’_ you found yourself thinking. If Papyrus wasn’t such a stickler with his pride, perhaps it could’ve been something like this… Perhaps, but… today told you so much different. He really did not need what this Sans, what the Papyrus before you, needed. He was truly something… different. Apparently, you still didn’t know by how much.

“human…?”

You jolted, lifting your hand. Past your rigid fingers, you witnessed the Papyrus flinch all the same, taking a just as tense stance. Immediately, you relaxed, flashing some sign of apology—not that you knew which part of you even _made_ that sign. You just knew you did, for the bitty had released his tension too. Some of it, you noted.

“Sorry,” you sighed. “You.. wanted to say something?” Somehow, rubbing the Sans’ skull had made you lethargic. Your sleepiness must’ve appealed to your little companion, though, for he answered you with less hesitance.

“i.. i just wanted to say thank you,” he confessed. “t-thank you.”

“For what..? I didn’t do much today,” you retorted to yourself. Resuming your delicate treatment of the Sans’ state, you elaborated. “All I did was near stomp you out, get shoved aside, head home and get my hand stabbed.” Sense suddenly returned to you as you sat up straight in your chair. “I mean, not that I’m blaming your brother..! I don’t know what you’ve been through, so by instinct, he– he could’ve been totally justified..!”

The Papyrus looked at you quizzically. “you.. believe that?” He appeared to not care for your poorly worded babble. “r.. really?” He seemed to look past the human before him, growing amused by what he saw. A bold, yet quiet, trail of laughter started to tumble out of him, enchanting your heart with the sly “nyeh”s slipped in between. Behind an awkward fist, his grin thrived.

“well, i.. i’d be lyin’ if i said you were wrong.”

Exhaustion wore him down too. He spoke, he _looked,_ as if he couldn’t bother with the suspicions he should’ve been holding over you. While sparing a glance towards his still-resting brother, the Papyrus seemed most focused on the subtle rotations of your hand—an extension of the ongoing circles being traced upon skull.

“y-your bitty,” he uttered. “he.. he needs contact too. ya know that, right?”

Surprised, you tilted your head. “He looked fine to me.”

“he..” His voice hiccuped. “he’s strained. too many shields. th.. threw me and my bro around for a while. had to fight against two of us for control.” His list, marred by relative apathy, chilled you from the inside out. “n-not to mention, he… he forced so much will upon a human SOUL…” His eye-lights flicked over, boring into the center of your chest. “your Boss’ got a strong SOUL on him, but he.. he really hit his limit just now. ‘m surprised he, uh.. had the energy to still act all tough on ya.”

You liked the stuttering more. To hell with guilt—you found the frequent stuttering more welcoming. Nervously, you ran the back of your injured hand over your hair.

“Well, uh.. Thank you..! for telling me. I’ll talk to him.” Clearing your throat, you put on a more courteous face. “I never caught your name. Do you have one?”

“Papyrus.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “That’s your.. _type,_ though. I know that Papyrus, my Papyrus, is an exception, but.. Do you like going by that?”

The bitty shrugged, leaning upon the edge of the bed. “when i met Sans, he didn’t want me goin’ by some human’s name. he.. he said that his brother’s gotta be an original. he’s Sans,” he gestured lazily, “and.. ‘m Papyrus.”

 _‘Just like Papyrus…’_ As you processed this funny similarity, you smiled ever so slightly at Sans. It suited him somehow. You barely knew the bitty, but some part of you just knew.

“Well, as much as I’d love to respect your choice in name, I’m afraid Papyrus wouldn’t want me calling you anything near his name,” you remarked. “Do you have anything else I could call you?”

The bitty’s honey eye-lights lowered a tad. He drew his hands in and up, fingering the collar that weighed upon his neck. There was a genuine tenderness in his weary sockets as he let his mind wander. Then, his gaze fell upon Sans; he stopped.

“whateva’ ya wanna call me works.”

“No. We are _not_ doing that,” you stated. “I let Papyrus choose his name, and Sans chose his name. You should get to do the same.”

“’kay. ‘No,’ it is, then.”

“Wh.. What? No! Papyrus, that isn’t–! I’m not calling you that.”

“ya did say i could choose whateva’ i wanted,” the bitty quipped. “‘No’ was the first word ya gave me. i’ll take it.” The laziest, most _shit-eating_ grin you’d ever seen gladly took over his features—paired with a shrug to boot.

“Have you seriously never thought of a name for yourself? Beyond Sans and owners and factory names?”

Another shrug. If it weren’t for his Boss-like teeth, you would’ve accused this bitty of being a Lil’ Bro a long time ago. Huffing, you glared at the leather wrapped about his upper vertebrae. Its buckle—if you could even call it one—had a dull glint. Dull, but warm if you gave it the chance. Pretty to the eye; not too harsh nor bright. Seemingly… accessible.

“Copper.”

“huh?”

“Until you come up with a proper name for yourself, I’ll call you ‘Copper,’” you proclaimed. “It’s just a nickname—if you approve of it, of course.”

The bitty clicked his teeth at the name, testing it a few times. Each repetition was softer than the last. Again, he looked to Sans, as if his unconscious self could utter some kind of agreement—disagreement, for all you knew. When his silent one-sided conversation ended, the bitty flashed a smirk at you.

“alright. i like Copper.”

“But it’s not permanent!” you corrected. “Unless you happen to like it, and you are taking it entirely of your own free will and not outside influence, it’s temporary. Got it?”

Sniggering at your profuse—aggressive—sensitivity, the bitty—now Copper—nodded mockingly. “got it.”

Although unconvinced, you left the subject be. Something told you that Copper wasn’t the brother who usually nagged the other. You figured the skeleton deserved a break at some point—stressful as the situation of said break was. Taking a glimpse at the clock, you crooked your head. Underneath the clock’s little Santa hat, the faint black of its murky screen spelled out a far-off time—3 hours and 25 minutes off, as you recalled. You should’ve eaten lunch by now. Your stomach growled in agreement.

Cursing to yourself, you rested your head in the cushion of your arm. On the desk, your injured hand lied limp on its side, while the bloody toilet paper rolled out of its grip and onto the carpet floor. Copper observed you with some suspicion and, in quiet, acted accordingly. As he rounded the bed, he could see that you were still rubbing Sans’ skull, no different from before. However, you seemed totally inert. He didn’t feel like prompting otherwise out of you.

Eventually, Copper found himself before your pinkened hand. Like Papyrus, he was quick to see the five wounds across your palm. No surprise, really. It was just like Sans to aim for the key points of a human hand. He probably hoped to inhibit any chance you had of snatching Copper at the moment. There was depth and a craziness, the skeleton noted. Sans probably didn’t mean to tear so deep near your thumb. Distance and angle must’ve thrown his aim off.

 _‘still…’_ Aiming for your neck was too far. It didn’t surprise Copper, but.. still.

The lanky skeleton’s phalanges hovered over one of the four punctures beside your fingers. It was eye-level for him—static, frozen in its pain. Unlike you, who rose and fell with the flow of air and the pulse of life, the punctured skin before him wept dry tears. At some point, the blood stopped. That was good. Even if.. the stain those tears left _begged_ to disturb, they signaled an open path. Healing, Copper thought. If there was something humans were good for, it was healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * on Saturdays, the egg returns with a new chapter. the egg's schedule is fickle, though; consistency is impossible to guarantee. patience and support are much appreciated <3
> 
> * while readers wait for a new chapter, the egg has provided a discord server. talk with the author, fellow bitty lovers, and get access to exclusive content (drabbles, one-shots, art, etc.) and interactions with the bitties! everyone is welcome <3
> 
> * [click here to join the discord server!](https://discord.gg/cQt8wWb)


	6. Silver

A shard of white—fading; quiet. It had an elegant bounce to it. If one could ever hope to touch it, they’d be greeted by paper-like thinness. So delicate. So fragile. **So weak.** He shouldn’t have been so weak. He should’ve been whole from start to finish, but.. he wasn’t. That shard was no heart. If he could grip it, if he could make it new, he would.

Breaching the darkness, a stream of blue pushed through—strong; quiet. It had a pluckiness to it. It bounded and retreated, looping itself in a canon, only to still into tributaries. They became thread-like. So gentle. So careful. **So shallow.** They were thin—paper-like, too. They shouldn’t have been. They were supposed to be coiling ribbons, tales of satin! He’s _seen_ them before. She’s _given_ them before. Why so shy? Why so barren? Was she scared? Was she scarred?

He had no right to wonder—really didn’t. His SOUL, his tattered **_excuse_** of a SOUL, didn’t dare to meet the half-hearted earnesty of the human’s. Not that he minded. She was slowly, but surely, weaving together a well of magic for him to pull from. The shard of white donned navy blue quite well, actually. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked.

Out of nowhere, a wave of human’s blue rode in on baseless ground. The shard jumped! Struggled..! _Drowned..._ Drowning. Swimming. Currents settled, and so did he. His shard, startled and frozen in fear, had been dyed. Dyed in what? It was bold. It was bright. It was **warm.** Like a rush of hot summer wind that came from _him,_ it whirled about in his bones. A clenching at his ribcage. A snarl past his teeth. What the **_hell_** was dumped into him?! He couldn’t breathe! He couldn’t think! Just what in the stars did she..?!

_Feel…_

The blue.. crept back. White shone through again. Familiarity… It stuck to him like tar. She herself was rinsing it off. A groan trembled past the skeleton’s teeth. Just what in the stars was in her mind to place _that_ upon him? Familiarity… Fondness… **Hope.**

Beyond the place where SOULs spoke, the bitty had managed to ink out something of a moan. Copper whipped his skull around, dashing to his brother’s bedside. He placed his hand over Sans’, adjusting his grip to a certain tenderness. A yellow bullet shot out from one SOUL to the next. A string of violet, soft yet stubborn, met this call, letting it flourish into heartfelt relief.

 _‘he’s alive.’_ Of course, Copper knew that he was, but.. still! His SOUL, Sans’ SOUL, had been so quiet.. That majestic, calming purple of his had been black for so long… _‘stars..’_ Thank the stars he was alive.

Trembling, Copper rested his skull upon the edge of the pillow. As he let out a deep, long-held breath, he squeezed his brother’s phalanges. Sans didn’t quite have the energy to return the gesture yet, but.. that was okay. He wouldn’t have wanted to share such a moment of.. _weakness_ before the human, anyways.

“Hey.”

 _‘the human.’_ Copper craned his skull, peeking up at you through shadowed eye sockets. A nearly unfamiliar concern sullied your features.

“You okay…?” you asked. “Is something wrong with Sans?”

As if your words were a spell, your SOUL conjured yet another ribbon of blue, large and beautiful—# who-knew-what of who-knew-how-many. The bitty’s golden eye-lights tracked the graceful spirit, waiting to find themselves land at Sans’ center. Then, the ribbon billowed. It swept around Copper, fishing a gasp out of him as he stumbled back, swinging an arm at the thing. It broke around his wrist, soaking into his bones. Panic started to rise up in the bitty, but then–!

 _Warmth._ Copper stopped, standing in awe as the fullness of another’s heart filled his ribcage.

 _‘wow…’_ He forgot what it felt like.

“..per..!”

The bitty jumped, snapping to attention. The first thing he saw was your hand, paused halfway between you and him. Blue was still showering itself over him—just him, not Sans.

“Copper, what’s wrong?” you pressed. “Are you feeling weak? Tired? Did I do something wrong?”

“n-no!” he sputtered out. “i-i’m fine—really.”

“Are you sure..? You looked a bit spooked just now.”

“no, i…” Copper shook his skull fervently, forcing new light into his eye sockets. “i’m good. thanks, though.”

He met your gaze, hoping it’d soften up by now. It didn’t. It was soft, but not the kind of soft he wanted. Sighing, the bitty mustered a sheepish smile. “i’m fine. really, human. i just.. just a bit weary, ya know? ’m alright.”

Strolling over, he placed a hand upon your own. You let Copper guide your touch back to Sans’ skull, and you resumed treatment, as if you had never stopped. There was a difference, though. Every now and again, a sliver of blue floated past Sans. It would dance, precarious and innocent. Eventually, Copper would offer a shy phalange. The blue thread would hop, shoot over, and wrap itself silly around him—so eager to care.

In time, the pattern gave the bitty some boldness. “human..?”

“Yes?”

 _‘maybe after Sans’ awake. it wouldn’t hurt to ask,’_ Copper thought. He needed contact too. Not as badly, but still… He looked towards his brother.

 _‘you’d let me. right..?’_ He still wasn’t sure how Sans would react when he found out that Copper had begged so pitifully for his brother’s treatment. Part of Copper didn’t _want_ to find out, frankly, but.. he knew it was only a matter of time.

“Copper?” You lowered your head, bringing your eyes into his line of sight. “You wanted to ask me something?”

His honey eye-lights buzzed silently. They stared past your SOUL’s blue, past the caress of your voice. A scrap of bitty’s white flared in his chest. “…it’s nothing.” He snuffed it out.

“Really? I know we just met, Copper, but you can be honest with me,” you insisted. “If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

He really loved the way you worded things. You had this peculiar focus on “you”—him, per say. He didn’t know why. He had never heard “you” so many times in a row; he didn’t think “you” could pop up so many times in another being’s head. It was... weird.

“relax, human. i can only warm up to ya so fast,” the bitty quipped. “nice try, though.” He let you off with a faint chuckle and a lazy smirk. For some reason, that gesture always brightened your face—twice, so far. You tilted your head this time, warping the curl of your lip into a smirk.

“I don’t know,” you mused. “I’d say you’re pretty easy on me. Papyrus wasn’t _nearly_ as quick to humor me.”

Copper’s sockets quirked with interest. Wandering to the edge of your desk, he took a peek outside your open door. No Boss—no sight of him, at least. Plopping onto his pelvis, the bitty looked up to you.

“wha’ do ya mean?” he asked.

A snigger shook your body. Pressing the back of your injured hand to your grin, you blurted out, “Oh God, where do I start?” Your gaze drifted, opposite to the bitty. “Well… Maybe you already picked up on this. When I first met him, all I ever got out of him was reminders of how great he was.” Pompous flair put a kick to your voice, teasing a snicker out of Copper. Your eyes fell on him again, radiating with this drawing sentiment.

“It took a while for him to decide I was worth a chance,” you remarked. “Months, if I remember correctly. I’m sure if you asked him, you’d get the exact amount of time—down to the day or maybe even the hour. For the longest time, all I was allowed to call him was ‘Boss.’”

“‘Boss’..?” Copper parroted.

“Yup,” you chirped, “not that I minded. Whatever made him happy, I did—within reason, of course. I sort of had to learn what I could and couldn’t let him do.”

The bitty cocked his skull, prompting you for an example. You pursed your lips in thought, still stroking Sans’ skull. “Well, there was that one time… Even he didn’t fully explain it to me. You know that scar? That long crack across his left eye socket? He didn’t have it before I met him. From what I’ve figured, he actually got it from–”

“AHEM..!”

You paused, puckering your lips. Copper froze as well, his sockets blank. With a few blinks, though, his eye-lights were back—and sharp. Pulling your hand away from Sans, you faced your little visitor. He stood at a fair distance, his back against your door.

“Hey, Boss.” You waved, flashing a slanted smile.

Papyrus’ teeth lined themselves in a bitter frown—one you found comforting. He rose a phalange, probably to correct you, but thought better of it. Carefully, he spoke your name. “IT IS LONG PAST YOUR USUAL LUNCH HOUR. I HAVE ALREADY GONE THROUGH THE TROUBLE OF MAKING LUNCH FOR YOU, SO I SUGGEST YOU HEAD DOWNSTAIRS RIGHT NOW BEFORE IT COOLS.”

Your playful front crumbled all too quick. Quiet, you bent down, offering your hand. The bitty’s shoulders perked briefly before he started for your open palm. Bringing him up to the desk’s height, you let him off at one end—opposite of Copper’s end.

“Thank you, Papyrus,” you murmured. “That’s very sweet of you. I really should be eating lunch right now, but…”

Trailing off, you directed your attention to the bitty-sized bed. Copper leaned against it, standing as a barrier between Sans and Papyrus. The lanky skeleton wasn’t quite ready to face the Boss, but.. he knew not to take his eye-lights away either. With a subtle tilt of your head, you saw Copper’s grip on a shape under the comforter. A hand, you presumed.

“I really.. shouldn’t be leaving Sans alone right now,” you uttered. Resting a gentle finger upon the smaller brother’s skull, you met Copper’s eye-lights. “We don’t know his state right now. I think it’s better if we wait until he’s awake before I leave.”

A series of emotions ringed those golden eye-lights of his. Surprise, disbelief, gratitude: just a few soldiers of the conflict brewing within him. But then, a growl of disapproval sliced through the air, wiping those soldiers off their baseless map.

“YOU DON’T KNOW HOW LONG THAT WILL TAKE!” Papyrus snapped, stamping his boot. “DO NOT TRY TO TELL ME THAT THE GREAT AND GENEROUS PAPYRUS’ EFFORTS TO COOK FOR YOU ACTUALLY FALL SHORT OF THAT FREELOADER’S NEEDS!”

“No, no, of course not!” you assured him. “It’s just..! I– I don’t want him falling down, Papyrus. I don’t _want_ a bitty’s death on my hands, okay? A human can survive a skipped meal or two; a bitty.. a bitty in his condition won’t last that long.”

“I CAN ASSURE YOU, HE WILL SURVIVE LONG ENOUGH FOR YOU TO ENJOY MY VERY CONSIDERATE DISPLAY OF COOKERY,” Papyrus sneered, crossing his arms. “I UNDERSTAND THAT I HAVE DONE YOU WRONG, AND AS SUCH, I HAVE ACTED TO COMPENSATE YOU ACCORDINGLY. THERE IS NO REASON TO DENY ME AT THIS POINT.”

“Papyrus…” You bit back a sigh, idly itching your brow. “I’m not disregarding you. I just think that right now, Sans’ condition calls for more attention than my body’s needs.”

“HYPOCRISY!” the bitty accused. “HAVE YOU REALLY FORGOTTEN YOUR OWN SAYINGS, HUMAN? BEFORE YOU HELP OTHERS, YOU HELP YOURSELF! YOU’RE USELESS IF YOU CAN’T TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF FIRST!”

“That’s..!” Huffing, you dropped your hand on the desk—the back, so you wouldn’t wound yourself further. “Fine. If you’re so concerned about my meals, then I’ll bring it up here. I’ll eat it here.”

“THAT GOES AGAINST ONE OF YOUR OWN RULES, HUMAN. WE ARE TO NEVER EAT NOR DRINK UP HERE, UNLESS ILLNESS IS INVOLVED, OR IT IS ONLY WATER.”

“What? Near-death doesn’t count as an illness?” you retorted.

“IN MEDICAL TERMS, _NO,_ ” the bitty snarked. He mirrored your glare in fiery, glowing scarlet—far beyond any hope of guilt.

Blowing a piece of hair out of your eyes, you sat back in your chair. “I really don’t want to skip lunch either,” you admitted, “but I’m not moving. Either you let me eat lunch up here and treat Sans in peace, or you toss that lunch in the fridge for later.”

“WHAT KIND OF DEAL IS THAT?!” Papyrus exclaimed. “I DON’T AGREE WITH EITHER OF THOSE OPTIONS!”

“Well, I don’t agree with _your_ option!” you countered. “Make your choice, Boss. I’ve skipped a few meals before you, and I can do it again.”

The bitty gritted his teeth at you, boring one of his dirtiest looks into you. “YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLE,” he spat pointedly. Wagging a phalange at you, he went on. “YOU ARE VERY LUCKY THAT I INVEST SO MUCH THOUGHT INTO YOU! OTHERWISE, THIS ARGUMENT WOULD’VE NOT PLAYED OUT SO WELL!—NOT TO MENTION IN YOUR FAVOR!”

You stared at him dumbfounded. A few seconds later, you finally caught on to what he was saying. He was giving in—in his own Papyrus-y sort of way. A snicker started to shake through you. Flushing red at your realization, Papyrus stamped his feet furiously, ordering you to quiet before he changed his mind. Lips still trembling, you nodded hastily.

“JUST FOR THAT, I AM NOT BRINGING YOUR LUNCH UP HERE! I WAS CONSIDERING IT—UNTIL YOU DECIDED TO MOCK ME, THAT IS!”

“I wasn’t mocking you,” you denied cheekily, standing up from your chair. Catching onto your intentions, Papyrus took a running start, springing off the desk.

“H-Hey!!” you exclaimed. In a panic, you turned to him, fumbling as he flew into the cradle of your open hand. A childish, smug string of laughter stemmed from the bitty, manifesting into a shameless smirk. Pouting slightly, you brought the skeleton up to your shoulder. As he situated himself, you locked eyes with Copper. He no longer stood at Sans’ side, but at the edge of your desk—hesitant.

“Hey.. Don’t worry,” you told him. Smiling softly, you promised, “I’ll be down and up in less than ten minutes. If you feel anything wrong with Sans, just holler, okay? I’ll be up in a flash.”

Copper’s eye-lights lingered on you for an uncomfortably long time. Nonetheless, you stayed. You kept your closeness; you kept your smile. You even placed your fingertips at his feet, nodding your head for emphasis. Eventually, his eye-lights gained a firmness, a confidence. He returned your nod, gave your fingers a light kick, then returned to Sans. Delighted, you left for the kitchen.

It didn’t take long to catch a whiff of the lunch Papyrus had talked so proudly of. Pasta, you soon realized. The madman made pasta. Holding back your grin, you rushed over to the plate sitting upon the counter.

 _‘Oh my God.’_ He covered everything! Your favorite sauce, your favorite type, and by God, it smelled **_good._** Your mouth was already watering. Picking up the fork set out for you, you twirled a glob of sauce and noodle out of the dish. It vanished behind your lips in mere seconds, and stars practically burst behind your eyes.

“Papyrus, you shouldn’t have!” you squealed, shaking in place. “How long did this take you? My God, this is actually the best I’ve ever tasted from you! And look at this kitchen!—Not a single mess to be seen! The hell is wrong with you? You didn’t need to do all this..!”

You slapped your arm on the counter, trapped in your defeat. The bitty had hopped from shoulder to counter at some point, now wearing the widest smirk you’d seen on him in weeks. With a humble, noble fist to his sternum, Papyrus let out a deep chuckle.

“OF COURSE I DID! YOU ARE A HUMAN OF SIMPLE DESIRES. THE LEAST I COULD DO FOR YOU WAS SHOW UP MY LAST DISH IN GLORIOUS TASTE!”

Oh.. How he made your heart swoon sometimes. He knew you well—too well.

“Thank you,” you cooed. “This is too sweet. I..” You quieted, pursing your lips guiltily.

“I really shouldn’t have left you alone just now. Copper, he– He told me you spent too much magic just now. Now look at you. You went and cooked me this wonderful meal, and God knows how much magic that cost you. Knowing you, you probably even wiped that blood-stain clean. You didn’t use magic on the way upstairs, did you..?”

Your change in mood was all too sobering. Papyrus tried to fight it—did all he could to keep his smirk, or at least the light in his sockets. The slight, but powerful, frown on your face compelled otherwise. Inevitably, his arms dropped. He let the red of his eye-lights falter and his shoulders droop. Irritation came over his features.

“COPPER. IS THAT THE NAME YOU’VE GIVEN THAT PAPY, THEN?”

Scratching your head, you shrugged. “It’s a nickname. He also goes by Papyrus, but I doubt you’d like me calling him that.”

“GOOD FORESIGHT,” he grumbled. “THAT FREELOADER OUGHT TO MIND HIS OWN BUSINESS. AND YOU..!” His volume cut out; his eye-lights flickered. Hastily, you tried to reach out, but he thrust a hand out, stopping you. Through a low growl, his eye-lights returned. “BE MORE CAREFUL ABOUT HOW YOU SPEAK OF ME BEFORE THOSE BITTIES.”

“Why..? Papyrus, Copper _warned_ me about your condition. He clearly cares for you.”

“HE SAID THAT TO APPEASE YOU,” the bitty sneered. “THOSE BITTIES… THAT PAPY. I DON’T KNOW WHAT GOES ON IN THAT EMPTY SKULL OF HIS, BUT I ADVISE YOU NOT TO TRUST HIM SO EASILY. HE IS _STILL_ THAT SANS’ BROTHER. I COMMEND HIM FOR NOT OFFENDING YOU YET, BUT STILL! I DO NOT BELIEVE HIS INTENTIONS TO BE SO PURE.”

“You never thought _me_ that pure when we met,” you complained, averting your gaze, “and no offense to you, but you’ve got a long streak of harsh impressions.”

“YOU’VE ONLY SEEN ME MEET THREE PEOPLE,” he scoffed. “TWO, IF WE’RE NOT COUNTING YOU.”

“Yeah. That’s still 100%. 3 out of 3 is still bad.”

“DO NOT TRY ME,” he warned. “I ASSURE YOU, I CAN LAST QUITE LONGER THAN THAT WEAKLING YOU CALL A SANS. SPEAKING OF WHICH, WHY DO YOU ADDRESS HIM AS SANS ANYWAYS? HE’S FAR TOO LOUD TO BE A SANSY.”

“Copper said he likes ‘Sans.’”

“YOU DON’T ACTUALLY BELIEVE HIM TO BE A SANS, DO YOU?”

“Just like I don’t believe you to be a Papyrus,” you snarked lazily. “I trust you know your own limits. Don’t do anything risky while I’m up there, okay?”

His expression blanked for a bit. “YOU’RE HEADING UP ALREADY?”

“I promised.” Opening a cabinet, you grabbed ahold of two bitty-sized plates, along with two forks. Gingerly, you placed a suitable portion of your lunch atop one plate and handed it over to Papyrus. He took it solemnly, glaring at the other plate.

“WHAT IS THAT FOR?”

“Copper.”

The Boss looked at you scornfully. You looked back. You showed no sign of apology.

 _‘OF COURSE.’_ Integrity was always a hard thing to budge. Huffing, the bitty turned his back to you, holding his plate close to his ribcage.

“I WILL BE AWAITING A MORE _PROPER_ DISCUSSION WITH YOU WHEN THAT BITTY’S AWAKEN,” he stated. “YOU MAY GO NOW.”

He could hear the softest huff from you in return. It was funny: how your annoyance gave him peace. As your steps distanced, tracking up the plastic-covered stairs, Papyrus let himself relax. Then, your steps ceased. Somehow, he knew you were looking at him. On that landing where you last saw him, with a Sans at his feet and his twin near shambles, you asked him something so, _so_ delicate.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Such warmth. Such simplicity, yet so heartfelt. He couldn’t see the ribbons, nor their hue, nor their depth. But they were there. They wrapped about him ever so tight, holding him upright. Closing his eye sockets, Papyrus assured you.

“NEVER.” He tacked your name on at the very end. He did not need to ask the same of you. That invisible warmth that trickled into his center was.. well… just enough. For now, he told himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * on Saturdays, the egg returns with a new chapter. the egg's schedule is fickle, though; consistency is impossible to guarantee. patience and support are much appreciated <3
> 
> * while readers wait for a new chapter, the egg has provided a discord server. talk with the author, fellow bitty lovers, and get access to exclusive content (drabbles, one-shots, art, etc.) and interactions with the bitties! everyone is welcome <3
> 
> * [click here to join the discord server!](https://discord.gg/cQt8wWb)


	7. the Fraying Bridge

The chair creaked as you eased back into it. Eyeing your lunch as you set it down, Copper’s eye-lights bloomed, rimming his sockets with a faint dandelion glow. The aroma was a mother’s kiss to his nasal—if he ever knew the touch of one. Welcoming, enticing, it brushed gold upon his cheekbones. It sunk a hook, a survivor’s yearning, into his very SOUL. He almost stepped away from the bed. Then, your hand fell. The fork rose.

You made busy work of the dish, mixing all its contents around. Copper, helplessly small, followed your hand with an intense gaze. When you took a forkful, he watched—watched it go all the way to your plate. Wait.. no. Another plate—a smaller plate, a bitty’s plate. But why would you ever..?

 _‘…right.’_ You had a bitty to take care of: the Boss. Copper glimpsed up at your shoulder, then the other, then the desk—both ends.

 _‘what..?’_ Glancing at Sans, then at you, Copper made a break for the edge of the desk. He fell to his kneecaps, gripping the desk as if it were a cliff’s edge as he scanned your floor for the embittered skeleton. _‘no… not here either.’_

“What are you looking for?”

The bitty tensed, swerving his gaze upwards.

“uh… n-no one– i mean..!” Copper scrambled to his feet, rubbing his kneecaps anxiously. “n-nothing, human. i-i was just– um..”

Amusement pooled in your eyes. “Looking for Papyrus?” you inquired.

He clicked his teeth shut, gaping at you in silence. The color of daffodils, shying in the shade, gradually dusted his cheekbones. Chortling, you turned away from him. Hastily, he started to stutter out another excuse, only for his jaw to snap shut again at the sight of your hand. At your fingertips was the Boss’ lunch. You slid it across the desk, stopping at Sans’ bed.

“Papyrus isn’t eating with us,” you stated. “I’ve talked with him. We think it’d be better if he goes about today separated from you. Until Sans is awake, I don’t think you’ll be seeing much of him.”

Upon your mention of Sans, your attention shifted. From where he stood, Copper could see your expression cloud. In this almost dutiful manner, you stroked Sans’ skull, rubbing a few snips of navy blue into him before pulling away. So much.. _less_ than before.

“h-..’ey…” Copper finally approached the bed, ignoring the plate at his feet. “you.. you promised.”

You looked at him quizzically. Pressing his teeth tight against one another, the bitty gestured urgently to his brother. “that.. i-i know you can’t see it, but that– that’s not enough..!”

Your lips wavered. Pursing them, solemn, you lifted your wounded hand. “I know. That’s why I’m eating as fast as I can. The faster I finish, the quicker I get to him.”

You emphasized your other hand, where the fork resided. Only then did the bitty notice your clumsy grip on it. “Sans injured my dominant hand,” you explained. “As much as I want to tend to him, I promised Papyrus that I would tend to myself first. That was our deal.”

Copper’s breath hinged, pulling his phalanges into a fist. Three cracks went off. His thumb lingered and pressed on the last phalange, gearing to just _snap_ it out of place—but he didn’t. Your squeals, your gushing, over that bitty you called “Papyrus” still rung in his skull. That bitty’s response still echoed in him. That little burst of joy your SOUL had—brief as it was loud—had sung so clearly, even from downstairs. It was sobering.

 _‘he must’ve said something,’_ Copper told himself. Something to affect you. Something to make your SOUL so wary of sharing all of a sudden.

Shaking his hand loose, Copper slid down the side of the bed. With his foot, he nudged close the plate that you had set aside for him. It was pasta, he realized—not that the name really mattered. Golden eye-lights drifted up towards your lips, where a fork sat between them. Your lips, already curled into a smile, stretched ever wider.

_‘there’s no way he actually cooks that good…’_

He couldn’t have, the bitty thought. There was no way that Boss could’ve made lunch for a human and then some after all the magic he used! It just wasn’t possible! Yet here you were!—taken by that Boss’ cooking like it was fresh out of the kitchen of some grand five-star restaurant downtown! You were smitten, and Copper couldn’t figure out why for the _life_ of him. Were you biased? The Boss wasn’t here; you didn’t need to be so–!

“Hey,” you uttered.

He blanked. Your quaint, tender expression was pointed at him again.

“I know Papyrus made this, but.. I’d really like you to eat,” you said. “Do you not like pasta..? If you want, I can whip up something else for you.”

“uh, n-no! it– it’s fine..!” the bitty lied. “i.. ‘m just surprised. i.. i didn’t even ‘ave to say anythin’ to get this… usually, humans aren’t too willin’ to share.”

Pity stretched your lips thin. Placing your fork down, you reached over. Copper’s eye-lights shrunk, and he bent halfway, pressing his hands to the desk as he eyed your finger going overhead. It stopped. Through shallow breaths, he peeked his head over the bed’s edge.

 _‘Sans.’_ You were tending to Sans. Copper blinked, watching the steady flow of integrity’s blue submerge his brother. It was strange to see how strong it became. Good, of course!—but strange. Your hand retreated. In the widening distance, trails of blue lingered. In wonder, the bitty craned his skull to gawk as they sailed up and past him.

 _‘she doesn’t need contact anymore..’_ he realized. Your SOUL was starting to reach his brother by nature, even without the contact.

_‘wow…’_

Copper slumped against the bed. Sheepishly, he picked his plate and fork up. Ignoring your gaze, he picked at a noodle near the plate’s lip. He nudged it to his teeth, taking the first hesitant bite. You looked at him earnestly, grinning as honey-hued light seemed to rim his sockets.

You bit your lip, restricting the joy that threatened to burst. “Well? What do you think?”

Out of nowhere, Copper flung his fork aside. He dug his hand into the sauced mass like a miner that struck gold, then guzzled it down. In a craze, he gulped down another handful, then another, then another. What scraps stuck themselves between his phalanges, he practically wrestled to rid behind his teeth. In literal seconds, you thought, his plate was empty. The final noodle, particularly long, was slurped up in obnoxious volume. The very end of it smacked Copper’s cheekbone, making one last splotch of sauce across the painting that was his skull.

 _‘Damn.’_ You opened your mouth to speak, only for Copper to let out an unceremonious burp. He nearly lurched forward with it, then plopped back against the bed.

“Wow,” you remarked. The bitty jumped in place, suddenly registering your presence. His honey blush peeked through streaks of sauce, which he frantically spread in the rush of cleaning his face.

“i-i’m so sorry,” he sputtered out. “that was so rude of me– i– Sans woulda never– i’m so sorry. it won’t eva’ happen again, i-i promise–”

“Hey, hey, no..” you quickly shushed him. Waiting for his gaze to steady on you, you mustered a soft smile for him. “It’s okay. I understand,” you murmured. “You were out on the streets for a while. No wrong in serving yourself, right..?”

Panting, Copper lowered his skull. His hands and arms seemed to drift in and out of his line of sight, and ever so slightly, you saw his skull turn towards his emptied plate. Shyly, he placed a phalange to his teeth. Then, he met your eyes again.

“yeah…” he uttered. “uh.. what you said.”

Relieved, you let out a slight sigh. “Are you full?”

Copper scratched at his sternum, averting his eye-lights. “yeah.. i’d say so.”

“Is there anything else you need or want?”

“…a napkin would be nice.”

Giggling, you assured the bitty that you’d get him just that on your second trip to the kitchen. Probably some water too, you thought. You finished your lunch speedily, rubbed Sans’ skull for a bit, then rushed downstairs to wash the dishes. Papyrus stood by the sink, turning the faucet on in perfect sync with your arrival. He witnessed your rather.. pitiful show of cleaning the dishes—even offered to finish the job for you. You were fine, though! In a matter of minutes, you were done, and the dish rack was filled.

“See? I’ve got it covered!” you exclaimed with pride. Slapping a towel on the counter, you clumsily dried your good hand.

“By the way, could you get me one of your cups? Copper needs some water.”

The Boss scoffed, rolling his eye-lights. “WHAT ARE YOU, HIS SERVANT?”

“No.” You shot him a look. “This is a gesture of courtesy.”

Papyrus huffed, starting down the counter. “COURTESY. CORRECT ME IF I’M WRONG, WHICH I’M NOT, BUT I DO BELIEVE WE’VE LONG CROSSED THE LINE OF JUST SIMPLE ‘COURTESY.’” Pausing, he gave you a sharp glance. “IF I DID NOT KNOW YOU BETTER, I WOULD ACCUSE YOU OF FORCING THEM INTO YOUR DEBT.”

“I mean, you accused me,” you chuckled. “If you think about it, I’m just reliving my first meeting with you—except, this time, I have _two_ to prove myself to.”

As you put your towel away, you casually watched the bitty. He dug his boot’s heel into the granite, glaring at his destination. He broke into a run—not a sprint, you realized. His stomps were heavy. His push off the kitchen island—too weak. Eyes wide, you bolted over, thrusting your hand out before he realized the traitorous distance. He hit your fingertips; he tumbled. In the panic, you saw sparks of red flare out. Before you knew it, a half-formed shield caught him. Then crashed. Its pieces littered the wooden floor.

“Papyrus.” Your breath fell short. Sweeping the bitty off the ground, you sat on the floor, cradling him in your hands. He groaned, trying to open his eye sockets. Crimson tried to assure you, but gave you embers’ whispers instead.

“Careful,” you hushed. “Don’t force yourself.”

The Boss ignored you, blinking his sockets stubbornly. Hot hisses of frustration hit your skin as he brought himself to his feet. He clung to your finger, scowling up at you.

“WHAT IN THE STARS WAS THAT?” he spat.

“You weren’t going to make that jump.”

“I COULD’VE CAUGHT MYSELF NONETHELESS! YOU SAW THAT! YOU WERE A WITNESS!”

“Yes, and a witness to your little shield crash,” you retorted. “Were you using magic while I was upstairs?”

“OF COURSE NOT!” he erupted. “AS IF I WOULD BE SO FOOLISH AS TO WASTE MY MAGIC SO THOUGHTLESSLY!—BEHIND YOUR BACK, NONETHELESS.” Huffing, he let himself slouch a bit. “I SIMPLY… I JUST…”

“Overestimated yourself,” you finished. A growl of agreement left the bitty. Smirking slightly, you quipped, “I thought you were done cracking your skull.”

His eye-lights, along with a blush, returned in bright fury. “I AM! AND– AND WE AGREED TO NEVER SPEAK OF THAT INCIDENT AGAIN!” he blurted out. “I STILL HAVEN’T SCOLDED YOU FOR THAT! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU; YOU ALMOST EXPOSED ME IN FRONT OF THAT YELLOW FREELOADER!”

“What?” you laughed. “I’m trying to make him ease up around you, that’s all. He deserves to know _something_ after being so terrorized by you.”

“IT ISN’T MY FAULT THAT HE’S SUCH A COWARDLY, BABBLING WEAKLING,” the Boss bitty snapped. “I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY THAT SANS EVEN TOLERATES HIM. I MAY HAVE MY AGGRESSIONS AGAINST HIM, BUT EVEN I WILL ACKNOWLEDGE THAT HE IS A FAR MORE SUPERIOR BITTY THAN THE ONE HE CALLS BROTHER.”

“Hey, turn it down a notch, will you?” You frowned, carefully rising to your feet. “Copper’s not like that.” Returning Papyrus to the island, you turned your back to him. “He’s.. just very tired. He’s in a new environment, and the only person he can really trust—maybe even looks up to—is out for who knows how long.”

You fetched one of the few bitty cups Papyrus owned. After filling it with water, you got a few napkins as promised. Papyrus just watched, embittered. Crossing his arms, he faced your look of disapproval. Your lips were still curled downwards, marred by a familiar sympathy. It was the same sympathy that Papyrus had seen when he first met you. Only now, it wasn’t directed at him. Even after that humiliating excuse of a jump, even after that disastrous incident of a fall, your frown was for someone else. Papyrus.. couldn’t see any of them, but.. some part of him wondered if your threads of blue were going elsewhere too.

“ALREADY SO TAKEN BY HIM, AREN’T YOU?” He couldn’t help his sourness.

“I’m not mad at you, Papyrus.” Of course, you weren’t. “I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt to stop and remember what you were like when we first met. You weren’t that much different from him.”

“HA!” The bitty tossed his skull back, clutching his ribcage. “ME AND THAT PAPY?—ALIKE? EVEN A SANSY OR AN EDGY COULD TELL A BETTER JOKE THAN THAT!” Sneering, Papyrus countered your mirage of scorn. “AND I DON’T LAUGH AT THEIR JOKES.”

Your shoulders drooped, matching the thinning scowl stretched across your face. “I’m going upstairs. Do you need contact?”

Chortling to himself, Papyrus shook his skull then spoke your name with glorious confidence. “I’VE ALREADY TOLD YOU. I WILL LAST PLENTY LONGER THAN THAT PITIFUL SANS. RETURN TO THOSE TWO. WE WILL DISCUSS WHAT TO DO WITH THEM AFTER HE’S AWAKEN.”

Your brow furrowed in a very telling way; you did not like his tone. Good. Smug, Papyrus saw you off to the staircase. This time, there was no pause at the landing; there was no question from you. You pressed on, sparing him nothing. Not that it bothered him, of course. Heaving out a sigh of weariness, Papyrus fell to his pelvis.

 _‘SHE’LL DISMISS MY HARSHNESS SOONER OR LATER.’_ You had a tender heart, after all. Over time, Papyrus had learned of your incredible patience and well of forgiveness—reserved for him, of course. He always spoke his mind, and you never batted an eye. Still.. this time, you didn’t pause for him.

 _‘SHE MUST BE SOMEWHAT BOTHERED.’_ You weren’t afraid to distance yourself upon discomfort. Of course, it was _he_ who insisted that he didn’t need the contact yet, and of course, he knew you’d take his words to heart, but… An image of a crash into a lower cabinet was seared into his mind. Even worse: a straight drop to the floor. If you hadn’t intervened so perfectly…

Papyrus snarled at himself. Picking himself up, he crossed the counter. After a hop onto a kitchen stool, whose legs he then slid down, he was back on the floor. The bitty entered the living room, finding his own means to reach the couch. Your trench coat was still there, abandoned yet silent. Wobbling across the cushions, Papyrus dove into the thick, cotton embrace of the coat. It didn’t have your SOUL’s warmth. However, it was still yours. Naps were.. typically looked down upon by him, but just this once, Papyrus made an exception. He did not know what that Sans would do when he awoke. He had to be prepared.

 _‘I HAVE TO PROTECT HER,’_ he told himself. Again and again, he rewound and replayed the thought. Like sheep jumping a fence, it soon willed him into a dreamless slumber.

He only planned for one nap. 20 minutes, the ideal amount for any nap, was his intention. He swore it would only be minutes. He didn’t realize, he couldn’t fight the fact, that those minutes turned into hours. In black, he couldn’t track anything. In rest, his magic was the one in control—not him!—and it made the decision to recover. Recover. Recover as much as possible.

When Papyrus finally stirred, the sun was no longer there. The blinds were still up; you hadn’t come down in a long time. Gasping for breath, the bitty scrambled to his feet, only to entangle himself in the coat’s fabric.

 _‘NO, NO, **NO!** GET OFF!’_ In one swoop, his magic plucked the coat’s entrapping folds off. Papyrus darted out, tumbling into the bounce of the couch cushions. Blinking his sockets furiously, the bitty tested what remained of his magic: not much. The lack of contact made his rest almost pointless.

Biting back a curse, Papyrus conjured a shield, smaller than his usual. He hopped onto the dragon-esque skull, patting a curve for sturdiness. When it felt reliable, the bitty willed the skull up and forward. Soon, it was a near-blur of white, streaking up the stairs and across the tiled floor. It dissipated underneath him as he crossed your bedroom’s open doorway. He braced himself for the roll, nearly tripping onto your carpet. Holding his breath, the bitty swung his gaze up.

Your ceiling fan’s lights were off; the windows’ blinds were drawn shut; but your desk—the desk lamp. It was white, and it illuminated your face, your tired but focused face. **_Relief._**

 _‘SHE’S ALRIGHT.’_ Sighing, Papyrus rubbed his temple absentmindedly. That nap was.. far more trouble than he expected. Still, he reasoned, it got him up here.

 _‘WHY IS SHE EVEN STILL UP HERE?’_ he started to realize. You hadn’t gone downstairs the entire time he was asleep. If you had, all the blinds downstairs would’ve been drawn shut. That was your routine, one of your rules. You certainly would’ve turned on at least _one_ set of lights had you seen him napping. That was how you worked; you were considerate like that. If you hadn’t been downstairs once during all those hours, then–

 _‘THAT SANS STILL ISN’T AWAKE?!’_ Incredulous, Papyrus swerved his skull up. He met a pair of eye-lights, honey-hued. Copper—as you called him—bored a quiet, dim glare through the Boss bitty’s stature. How long he had been staring for was hardly Papyrus’ concern. He placed a fist to his sternum, countering Copper’s hardened eye-lights.

_‘i swear… if he actually–’_

Papyrus cleared his throat, loud and proud. Seething, Copper clacked his teeth, retreating from the desk’s edge. All the while, you sat upright at the disruption, confused. After a few head turns, your eyes found the source.

“Papyrus?” you blurted. “What are you doing up here? How did you..?”

Chuckling deeply, Papyrus took a boastful step forward. “YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN TO DOUBT ME.” He placed your name with clever purpose, ensuring no tensions for himself. “I’VE COME TO CHECK ON YOU, AS I SHOULD.”

“What..?” you uttered. A giggle slipped through. “Oh, I skipped dinner, didn’t I?”

“YES.” He didn’t even realize that. “BUT THAT ASIDE, I HAVE DECIDED TO TAKE SOME INTEREST IN THE STATE OF OUR GUEST, AS A PROPER HOST SHOULD. IT’S BEEN HOURS. IT’S ONLY NATURAL THAT I, WITH A CERTAIN MORALITY, WOULD WORRY.”

You probably didn’t buy it. You looked like you didn’t buy it. However, the slight curl of your lips said otherwise. Shaking your head, you offered your palm to him. Papyrus stepped onto it, unfaltering as you lifted him up to the desk.

“You look better,” you remarked. “What’d you do?”

“I HAVE MY WAYS,” the bitty bragged. To the side, he could hear Copper scoff under his breath. That skeleton wasn’t too good at stifling himself.

“HOW IS THE SANS?” Papyrus asked, turning to his twin. “YOUR BROTHER. HE HASN’T FALLEN DOWN, HAS HE?”

Immediately, Copper’s attitude vanished. Meekness, with a hint of gruffness, replaced it. “n..no.”

Huffing through his nasal, Papyrus looked back at you. You shrugged, placing your finger upon Sans’ skull. “Don’t look at me. This is the first I’ve ever done this.”

 _‘RIDICULOUS.’_ He glowered at the skeleton laying upon his old bed. You had treated the Sans for over half the day, and he still refused to wake.

“BITTY.” Papyrus’ eye-lights shifted to Copper. “HAVE YOU BEEN CHECKING ON YOUR BROTHER’S SOUL FREQUENTLY? DO YOU KNOW HIS CURRENT STATE?”

Nodding, Copper averted his gaze.

“HOW IS IT?”

“…good.”

“SO WHY ISN’T HE AWAKE?”

“don’t ask me,” Copper muttered. “bitties wake when they wanna wake—don’t when they don’t.”

You seemed content with that explanation. As a yawn floated out of your body, your rubbing of Sans’ skull slowed noticeably. Then, you stilled. While your eyelids lingered at a halfway point, a groan, a stirring, came from the Sans. Narrowing his eye sockets, Papyrus began to approach. Roughened bones swept in front of him, barring him from the skeleton.

“what are you doing?” Copper murmured. His voice hovered across the desk; you didn’t notice.

Glimpsing at you, Papyrus held back his response. Summoning a single, flawless bone, the Boss bitty smacked the makeshift barrier aside. In the clatter, your eyes snapped open, just in time to see Papyrus’ hand over Sans.

“Hey!” you exclaimed. “Papyrus, don’t–!”

He seized his SOUL. Indigo hissed and roared through closed—now open—sockets. In a frenzy, Sans slapped the Boss’ hand away, scrabbling to free himself of the comforter. Standing on the bed, he shook his skull frantically, pleading for focus. His SOUL—heavy. Still there, he realized. Thrusting his hand out, Sans locked two starry eye-lights on the threat’s source. The act forced crackles out of his left eye socket; he fell back to one star. Soon, his grip on the threat slipped—but he could still fight. He readied himself, readied bones, readied blasters, but then–!

The threat vanished. Sans stared, unblinking. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. All that was left in his mind was an imprint, an impression. His first use of magic in that short exchange had returned to him said impression—a wasteful impression, for it was nothing compared to the waves of broiling scarlet anger.

Papyrus saw it. Papyrus felt it. He felt that Sans’ SOUL under his grip. It was full. It was whole. No longer paper-thin, but thick and woven— ** _woven_** with his human’s integrity. Deep blue threads and ribbons of beautiful navy were wrapped tight and close about that bitty’s SOUL.

“LEECH,” Papyrus uttered.

Sans had never heard a more malicious whisper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * on Saturdays, the egg returns with a new chapter. the egg's schedule is fickle, though; consistency is impossible to guarantee. patience and support are much appreciated <3
> 
> * while readers wait for a new chapter, the egg has provided a discord server. talk with the author, fellow bitty lovers, and get access to exclusive content (drabbles, one-shots, art, etc.) and interactions with the bitties! everyone is welcome <3
> 
> * [click here to join the discord server!](https://discord.gg/cQt8wWb)


	8. Burnt Fingertips

Tension was thick. Red and indigo clashed in locked glares. Neither bitty dared to say a word. They couldn’t think of one—no more than the lash of truth that Papyrus had uttered. You were cowering. Hands close to your chest, you held your breath, staring into that Sans’ single, thinly-lined eye-light. The wounds on your hand still stung.

“HOW DARE YOU,” hissed Papyrus. He broke his weapon upon your desk, pointing the splintered end at Sans. “MY HUMAN SLAVED HOURS OVER YOUR DUSTING CORPSE, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY HER?! HOARDING?! THIEVING?! LIKE SOME PARASITE?!”

You didn’t know a star could waver so powerfully. You didn’t know a scowl could spread so far.

“I Am Just Doing What I Need To Survive!” Sans clenched his fists, trembling at the knees. “You Should Understand That! We’re Bitties! Not.. Pets!—Let Alone Guard Dogs! How Dare _You!_ —Almost Killing One Of Your Own For A Human!”

His hand flew up in rage; you flinched.

“You Have No Right, Nor Even the Privilege, To Criticize Me!”

_No weapons._

“If You Had Not Been So Irrational In The First Place, I Would Have Never Needed To Do This!”

 _Just… anger._ You looked at the bitty, watching as his fangs clipped the ends of his words to pangs. His phalanges—really claws—gestured everywhere in violent, painful ways. He pointed to himself, to Copper, to you, and threw all he could at Papyrus. The voice he projected, the volume he rose to was deafening. Soon, a bead of indigo-tinged sweat sat above his sockets.

_‘He’s scared.’_

You looked at Papyrus. He seemed indifferent.

_‘He’s scared of him.’_

Quivering through your breaths, you carefully reached out. Sans’ eye-light darted to you in an instant; his jaw hung. Cocking his skull, Papyrus started to turn, tracing his opponent’s gaze to you. Your cupped hands fell between the two bitties, trapping the Boss.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” inquired Papyrus. Lowering the broken bone in his hand, he met your flitting stare. “MOVE YOUR HANDS. I’M NOT DONE WITH HIM.”

“He’s awake, Papyrus.” Your voice was so weak. “Let’s give him some space, okay..?”

“AS IF!” he snarled. “DO YOU NOT COMPREHEND WHAT HE’S DONE? HE’S MADE A FOOL OF YOU! HE’S MANIPULATED YOU! USED YOU! WORRIED YOU! AND WITHOUT SO MUCH AS A PINCH OF CONSCIENCE!”

“I don’t care about that..!” you hushed. “I’m just glad he’s awake, okay? It doesn’t matter how he reached this point. He’s awake now.”

“LISTEN TO YOURSELF,” Papyrus growled. “YOU’RE MEEK. YOU’RE TIMID. DO NOT TELL ME THAT YOU DON’T FEEL AT LEAST A LITTLE PANG OF FEAR UPON SEEING WHAT HE JUST TRIED!”

You did. The bones; the skulls, fizzling with a near-violet, near- **violent** essence in their sockets, were still at the forefront of your mind. You couldn’t sweep the image out. You just couldn’t. However, Sans.. Sans let those weapons go a long time ago.

“Look,” you sighed, “you’re in no condition to fight. I don’t want you to fight. I’m just a bit.. shaken, is all. Everyone is. Right?”

Lifting your chin, you met Copper’s eye-lights. He stood at his brother’s side, looking up at you intently. Upon registering your words, the bitty tilted his skull. He started to nod then hesitated; his gaze shot over to Sans. You followed, wondering if you could trust the smaller skeleton to grant you agreement. Nothing—just the twitch of his nasal.

“Well, today’s been… stressful,” you admitted. Taking your hands away, you slapped a crooked grin on your face. “Everyone’s at least a little high-strung right now. Let’s just.. relax. It’s late.”

Wryness flattened Papyrus’ expression. “HUMAN. DO YOU HONESTLY EXPECT ME TO HUMOR YOUR PLEA OF EXHAUSTION? THIS IS A VERY SERIOUS MATTER! I WON’T HAVE YOU TRYING TO BRUSH THIS OFF AND PUSH IT OFF TO THE NEXT DAY OR WHO KNOWS HOW LONG!”

Before you could say anything, a dramatic scoff cut you off. “Oh Please,” moaned Sans. “You Fuss Over Your Human As If She Has The SOUL Of A Bitty. Even I Can Confidently State That She Is Unaffected By My Decision.”

Gritting his teeth, the Boss turned on his heel, weapon raised. Upon his first step, you slammed your hand down in front of him. Jolting, the bitty tumbled back onto his pelvis. He threw his skull back in shock, gawking at you. Your name fluttered past his teeth in shambles.

“THAT WAS– THAT WAS ENTIRELY UNCALLED FOR!” he sputtered.

“As is your aggression,” you countered with sternness. You tried to be nice; he didn’t take it. “Remember what you promised me? We would have a proper discussion on what to do with them after Sans woke up. You promised me.”

“I…” Papyrus panted, glancing at your two-member audience. Clearing his throat forcefully, he got back to his feet. “I NEVER SAID THAT WE WOULDN’T.”

“You knew what that promise entailed.”

“YES, OF COURSE! I WOULD NEVER..!” Papyrus lifted an open hand, frowning bitterly at you. His eye-lights drifted; his hand dropped. “THIS IS A DISCUSSION WE WILL HAVE LATER. PRIVATELY.”

Your hand turned lax. Quieting, you shifted your attention to the brothers. “Sans.. right?”

His eye-light brightened considerably—like flashing canines at you. “Yes. What Of It?”

 _‘Just like Papyrus…’_ Like you had done in your first meeting with the Boss many.. many conversations ago, you mustered up the smallest smile that, hopefully, Sans could risk faith in.

“It’s nice to meet you.” As you gave a polite nod, you observed a change in his glower: from wariness to puzzlement. “How do you feel?”

Sans’ ribcage rose and fell in grand swoops. Hesitant, cautious, he replied, “Good.”

“That’s good,” you chirped. “Papyrus and I will go somewhere else to talk now, alright? You two can stay here.”

Right when you stood up, Copper suddenly spoke. “a-actually, um.. m-me and my bro can leave,” he offered.

“What?” Sans retorted.

“i-it’s your room..!” Copper reasoned. “a-and i-i’m sure you’ll– ya know, talk better in the, uh, comfort..! of your own place.” With wild gestures all around, Copper finally stuck his hands to his sides. “and, well… i.. i think me and Sans could.. we could– we could use a discussion of our own right now…”

He never looked at his brother, you realized. A tension was stretched between them, yanking Copper’s jaw back and forth through nervous skips. As for Sans.. you weren’t sure if he was aware of it. He was just staring, waiting for Copper to finish. When he did, Sans still stared, deep in consideration of his brother’s idea.

“Hmph. I Suppose,” Sans decided. “I Have Been Out For A While.”

He placed a hand upon Copper’s humerus, then blipped out of sight. Gasping, you looked about the room frantically. Only when they were out the doorway did you finally catch sight of them.

“H-Hey!” you called out. “Do you know where you’re going?”

Somehow, you could still make out that starry outline of Sans’ eye-light. Contempt seemed to burn within it. “Of Course, Human. You Ought To Know Better Than To Underestimate Bitties.”

They neared the stairs, then vanished again. Not even a single glance from Copper. Pursing your lips, you hoped that the skeleton would be alright on his own. Right now, you had your own “Sans” to deal with.

Straightening your back, you faced the Boss bitty with blankness. Delicately clasped together in a disapproving-manager sort of fashion, your hands sat on the desk. Papyrus was just as stubborn. Shoulders squared, he crossed his arms in a firm lock. Fangs worked in his favor, for they dirtied a scowl far more than the shape of your lips ever could. It got to you, sometimes. The sculpting of his skull was just too perfect—too good at challenging others.

“I DO HOPE YOU REALIZE I WILL NOT BE APOLOGIZING FOR WHAT I’VE SAID.”

 _Nice._ First words on the table, and he chose to start with _that._ “I’m not going to make you apologize.” He played his cards well.

“AND I DO HOPE YOU REALIZE THAT I WAS IN THE RIGHT,” he sneered. “THAT SANS WAS LEECHING OFF OF YOU.”

“Well, you’re going to have to explain what ‘leeching’ means,” you blurted. “I understand your concern. I know you don’t do things without reason, but I can’t let you go around threatening people because of that. Besides, Sans wasn’t.. wrong! Whatever he did, I feel fine!”

“IT ISN’T YOUR CONDITION I’M WORRIED ABOUT,” he snapped. “IT’S THE MATTER OF DISRESPECT. IT’S THE FACT THAT YOU SEEM TO EXCUSE EVERY SHOW OF INGRATITUDE HE HAS FOR YOU! THE LENGTHS THAT HE GOES TO PROVE SOMETHING OF HIMSELF—IT’S REVOLTING!” He stamped his foot, rattling his skull in outrage. “WHAT’S EVEN MORE SICKENING IS THAT YOU LASH OUT AT ME FOR DEFENDING YOUR INTEGRITY!”

His shouts rung in your head; you started to get a headache. Rubbing your temple guiltily, you waited for Papyrus’ eye-lights to look back up at you again. They never did.

“AS IF THAT WASN’T ENOUGH,” the bitty chortled, “YOU EMBARRASSED ME. I WAS GOING TO PUT THAT SANS BACK IN HIS PLACE—MAYBE EVEN HIS BROTHER—BUT NO. YOU PUT YOURSELF IN BETWEEN, TRIED TO _ASSERT_ YOURSELF WITH ME, THEN FORCED ME TO SUBMIT TO YOUR WILL! I WOULD’VE CONTINUED FIGHTING YOU! I WOULD’VE ASSURED YOU THAT EVERYTHING WOULD’VE TURNED OUT FINE, BUT BECAUSE YOU STARTED SUCH A SCENE IN FRONT OF THEM, I COULDN’T!

“YOU WERE SO INSISTENT UPON PROTECTING THAT PRESUMPTUOUS PARASITE. I DOUBT YOU EVEN REALIZE IT NOW, BUT IN THAT MOMENT, YOU WERE PRACTICALLY A DANCING PAWN IN THAT SANS’ HAND. HE DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO DO ANYTHING TO TURN YOU AGAINST ME! IS THERE EVEN A SLIVER OF UNDERSTANDING THAT YOU HAVE FOR THAT SITUATION?”

It… It took you a while to respond. “No.. Not.. Not really.” Of course, you understood the mindset. You understood the notion of trying to do what’s right in spite of such intense objection. However… “You know me. I don’t.. I don’t really exert myself that much for others.”

Those efforts were reserved for very few. Both you and Papyrus knew that. That shared knowledge was a pickaxe, chipping away at the mountain of injustices your companion stood upon. However, it only grazed the wall of resent.

“I KNOW,” Papyrus sighed. “WHY ELSE DO YOU THINK I WAS SO OFFENDED? I’VE SEEN YOU WITH OTHER HUMANS: YOUR FRIENDS, YOUR FAMILY. YOU STATE YOUR OPINION AND LEAVE IT BE. I’VE NEVER SEEN YOU OBJECT SOMEONE SO.. SO PASSIONATELY UNTIL NOW.”

“It was a matter of life or death, Papyrus, not some… venting session.”

“I WASN’T GOING TO KILL HIM!” the bitty spat. “THAT’S ANOTHER OFFENSE..! YOU DISPLAYED A LACK OF TRUST IN ME.”

“How was I supposed to trust you..?!” you exclaimed. “Every time I brought up Copper or Sans, anything you said was just.. plain cruel! Not to mention that you literally broke a bone on my desk to make a weapon out of it.” You ran a hand through your hair, ruffling it thoughtlessly. “I had to protect him,” you insisted. “If I didn’t, I.. I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“I WOULD’VE SET HIM STRAIGHT.”

“Not without physical threat..! I didn’t want anyone getting hurt.”

Papyrus gaped at you, swung his arms out—incredulous. “YOU WERE THE FIRST VICTIM TO START WITH! HOW CAN YOU BE UPSET WITH ME FOR GUARANTEEING THAT YOU WEREN’T HARMED FURTHER? IF ANYTHING, YOU PUT YOURSELF IN HARM’S WAY! WHAT IF I DID ATTACK? WHAT IF HE ATTACKED? YOU’D HAVE TWO USELESS HANDS AT YOUR SIDES THEN!”

“I– I wasn’t thinking..!”

“CLEARLY!” Papyrus shouted. He tore his glare away from you. “EVEN NOW, YOU AREN’T THINKING. IF YOU WERE, YOU’D HAVE SEEN THINGS FROM MY POINT OF VIEW BY NOW.”

 _Ouch._ “You know, you’re not exactly the most open-minded yourself.”

“I’M AWARE. IT’S BECAUSE I DON’T NEED TO BE.”

“Well, you need it right now. In case it hasn’t occurred to you, I’m not interested in empathizing with a need for murder anytime soon.”

“AND I’M NOT INTERESTED IN EMPATHIZING WITH AN INGRATE ANYTIME SOON.”

 _A pang._ “You don’t mean that.”

“I DO.” Those blood-colored eye-lights captured your wavering stare. “I UNDERSTAND YOUR CONCERN FOR DUST. I UNDERSTAND YOUR DESIRE TO KEEP OTHERS UNSCATHED. WHAT I CAN’T UNDERSTAND IS YOUR TONE. YOU SPEAK TO ME AS IF I AM THE ONLY WRONGDOER HERE.”

“I…” Speechless, you shook your head. “Papyrus, that’s.. that’s not what I meant.”

He scoffed. “WELL, DON’T EXPECT ME TO EXCUSE MYSELF FOR INTERPRETING OTHERWISE.”

“Come on, Papyrus...” You slouched, picking at your fingernail. “I.. I…”

You couldn’t find the right words. You couldn’t find the right breath. Each one lasted all too short. Observing you for a while, Papyrus dropped his front as well. Blurry scarlet scanned over you, indifferent yet.. not. Sometimes, he forgot how little you really wished for these arguments. That trait of yours always soured him. You started fights; you insisted for fights. You very rarely saw them through.

Letting out a deep sigh, Papyrus called your name with rough tact. “I KNOW YOU ARE GRATEFUL FOR MANY THINGS. I KNOW WHAT I’VE SAID DOESN’T ALWAYS APPLY.”

It was true. Your brashness and fickleness did not wipe away the sunnier moments of today. If he tried hard enough, he could still recall the tinkling bells of your laughter, flawed by dry squeaks and the grating of near-snorts; he could still hear your praise and ever humble fuss, shouted from the rooftops—if your SOUL had any.

“HOWEVER, YOU NEED TO UNDERSTAND THAT WHAT I FELT FROM THAT SANS’ SOUL, I SHOULD’VE NEVER FELT IN THE FIRST PLACE. A BITTY SHOULDN’T EVEN BE CAPABLE OF WHAT HE DID.”

Very slowly, albeit eagerly, curiosity spread over your features. “What do you mean?”

“IT WAS.. IT WAS SOME WEIRD AMALGAM!” Papyrus sputtered. “I COULD STILL FEEL HIS SOUL, THE ORIGINAL. HE’S SOME–! HE’S A FLAWED BITTY FROM THE START. I CONFIRMED THAT BEFORE HE PASSED OUT. WHEN I CHECKED HIS SOUL JUST NOW, I DISCOVERED A VERY.. INTENSE CONCENTRATION OF ENERGY, _YOUR_ ENERGY. A BITTY SHOULDN’T BE CAPABLE OF HOLDING ONTO SUCH A RIDICULOUS AMOUNT OF HUMAN’S ENERGY—NOT TO MENTION, RAW!”

You furrowed your brow, processing his words. “So he’s… unique?”

“YES! DISTURBINGLY SO!” he affirmed. “IT CONCERNS ME! I DO NOT WANT HIM THINKING YOU AS SOME INFINITE BATTERY TO THAT– THAT STRANGE TRAP HE CALLS A SOUL! SO WHAT IF YOU AREN’T AFFECTED BY IT NOW? HAD I NOT WOKEN HIM UP, WOULD YOU NOT HAVE SPENT DAYS SLAVING YOURSELF OVER THAT BODY?”

“Uh…” You averted your gaze sheepishly. “I mean, I’d be within reason…”

Papyrus gave a rather curt but light laugh. “I KNOW YOU VERY WELL. YOU’RE AN IRRITATINGLY COMPASSIONATE, DEVOTED SPIRIT. YOU’D FIND A WAY TO CARRY HIM THROUGHOUT THE DAY IF YOU HAD TO.”

 _‘Yeah. I would’ve.’_ Looking down in defeat, you hid the upward twitch of your lip. “So, if I’m understanding this correctly, you were fighting for prevention. You don’t know what makes him different, and you want to be careful.”

In your periphery, you caught sight of a serrated grin. “YES, PRECISELY!” announced the bitty. “YOU FINALLY UNDERSTAND WHAT I WAS TRYING TO GET ACROSS! THIS IS EXCELLENT! YOU REALLY HAVE IMPROVED IN THE ART OF COMMUNICATING WITH ME!”

_‘Self-centered as always…’_

“You know,” you began casually, “you could’ve just talked about Sans from the start. A lot of the.. insult and hurt could’ve been avoided if we just went to reason.”

He paused, blanking at you. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? I DID.”

“No, you started with pinning my response to your actions and the assumption that I’d force you to fess up guilt. Not to mention, you later went the personal route,” you stated simply. “I’m not trying to dig up old hurt, but I’m just saying, what we just went through… We–”

You hiccupped. Quieting, you skimmed over the desk’s printed patterns.

“We both could’ve handled it better,” you mumbled. It felt silly to say—risky, even. Things had calmed down, Papyrus was happy, but his words still stung. Your.. excuses—your reasons—still didn’t feel justified. That exchange.. It weighed on you, still. Tapping the desk nervously, you anticipated the upcoming roar of outrage at your insolent thoughts, but–!

Your tapping was put to a halt. A bone, small yet strong, hooked itself under your joint.

“I’M… AWARE,” Papyrus confessed. The little bone faded away into a twinkling red mist. In its absence, a spot of.. melancholy.. comforted you instead. Dropping his arm, the bitty turned away from you, having spent the last of his resolve for the day. “I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.”

You chose to respect that. Leaning over, you rested your cheek upon the desk. As you closed your eyes, a tranquility finally settled in your chest. Ease. Relief. It lulled the pulse of your heart. Just as your consciousness began to float away, a call jerked it right back.

“YOU DO NOT PLAN TO ACTUALLY SLEEP ON THIS DESK, DO YOU?”

The chug of little boots trailed over your arm. Up your shoulder, then to your nape, Papyrus made his way to the back of your chair. Sitting up carefully, you craned your neck to see him. His hand was out towards the foot of your bed, with his phalanges crooking and pinching some block of air. Grumbling, he soon drew his hand back to his hipbone.

 _‘It’s too far for him.’_ Smirking, you flattened your toes against the carpet. Then, as sly as you could manage, you started to roll your chair back. The first jolt of motion sent Papyrus staggering; he leapt for the bed posthaste. His claws caught the cover, and he scrambled onto the safety of the mattress’ flat.

“Nice job,” you chirped.

You turned off the desk lamp. Standing up, you strolled over to your usual side of the two-person bed. By the time you settled under the comforter, Papyrus had already crossed the bed’s span, albeit more clumsily than usual. He watched your head descend upon the pillow, shift, then still. For a moment, things felt right—routine-like. Your door was still open, however.

“AREN’T YOU HUNGRY?”

“Arguments ruin my appetite.”

“YOU HAVEN’T SHOWERED YET.”

“I’ll shower in the morning.”

“WHAT ABOUT YOUR DENTAL HYGIENE?”

You paused. Reluctance pinched at your features. “I just lied down..!” you whined. Chuckling to himself, Papyrus leaned against the second, unoccupied pillow. Your whine wasn’t just for your teeth.

“MORE IMPORTANTLY,” the Boss went on, “ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO LET THOSE TWO FREELOADERS RUN AMOK IN THIS HOUSE? YOUR DOOR IS WIDE OPEN. THEY HAVEN’T RETURNED.”

You didn’t respond for a while. The ceiling seemed so much more interesting to you.

“Remember when we first met?” Of course, he did. “When I first took you here, did I.. enforce anything on you?”

No. You didn’t. You were ridiculous, reckless, seemingly indifferent, but really just too trusting. You let him wander left and right, spit out demands you’d learn to take, call you a human like you were a pest, and stars knew what else! You allowed… so many things: insults, cruelty, unfairness, prejudice; you wore a smile through all of it. Why you chose to deal with him in such a way was still beyond him to this day. You didn’t deserve it. You _knew_ you didn’t deserve it! If anything, the only benefit there was to bowing down before such crudeness was.. was…

“YOU’RE STARTING OUT THE SAME WITH THEM, AS YOU DID WITH ME,” Papyrus realized. “YOU PLAN TO WAIT OUT THEIR CRUDENESS, LET THEM BELIEVE THAT THEY ARE IN POWER, AND LET THEM DECIDE WHEN TO TRUST AND ESTABLISH WHO YOU ARE TO THEM.”

“That’s a fancy way of putting it,” you yawned, “but yeah, more or less. It worked out with you, right?”

Magic gathered at the bitty’s cheekbones. Scoffing dramatically, Papyrus stuttered out, “W-WELL, IT ONLY WORKED BECAUSE I RECOGNIZED YOUR SINCERITY SO SOON! I VERY MUCH DOUBT THAT THE SANS WILL BE AS PERCEPTIVE AS I!”

“So you don’t have any doubts about Copper?” Drowsiness made your smile slant into a smirk.

“I– OF COURSE, I DO! I JUST– I HAVEN’T HAD ENOUGH TIME TO OBSERVE HIM WHEN IT COMES TO YOU! I ALREADY KNOW THAT PAPY DOESN’T RESPECT NOR APPRECIATE MY PRESENCE, AND IT’S VERY CLEAR HE HAS SOME BIAS WHEN IT COMES TO HIS BROTHER.”

“It’s his brother. I think he’s allowed to be biased,” you sniggered.

“NO! NOT–! UGH! YOU’RE IMPOSSIBLE TO TALK TO WHEN YOU’RE LIKE THIS! GO TO SLEEP!” Papyrus demanded. Falling back on his pelvis, he busied himself with the fuss of removing his boots. “WE WILL CONTINUE THIS CONVERSATION IN THE MORNING WHEN YOU’RE WELL-RESTED AND SENSIBLE AGAIN.”

“I’m always sensible.”

“NOT WHEN YOU’RE IN BED,” he grumbled.

After placing his boots, as well as his belt, on your nightstand, the bitty climbed up the folds and wrinkles of your pillow. Your eyes, half buried behind hair, lazily followed his silhouette. Soon, they closed. Eye-lights dimming, Papyrus observed your stillness for a moment. At the center of his ribcage was a painful yearning, one whose call peaked at this very moment. Fatigue chained him down, yanking and lurching—pleading for him to rest beside the gentle curve of your forehead.

 **Contact.** His SOUL needed contact.

 _‘I CAN’T REST, THOUGH.’_ Your door was still open. The lights of the main floor still spanned up along the walls. The bitties were still awake. Probably. Certainly. They wouldn’t trust your home so soon. They wouldn’t trust your lenience that easily. He was confident in that. Perhaps.. he should check on them. Yes. Surely, the act would drain him, but he was the great Papyrus! Weariness meant nothing against him! Especially if he withstood it for–!

“ACK!” Your fingers swept over him. His claws hooked your skin, and his gaze darted to you in panic. Your face was still static.

 _‘IS SHE NOT AWAKE?’_ With your near-limp hand cupped over him, Papyrus found himself nuzzled to just above your brow. _‘IS SHE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE?’_

Hesitant, the bitty brushed a hand over your hairline. Immediately, your SOUL answered his touch. Plentiful ribbons of blue filled his vision, blinding him in their brilliantly deep hue. The color silenced in an instant, the instant he pulled his hand away. Breathing heavily, Papyrus glared at you with buzzing eye-lights.

“HEY!” he hissed. “ARE YOU DOING THIS?”

You didn’t reply. Narrowing his sockets, the bitty slapped your forehead. Your face twitched.

 _‘WHY, THIS SNEAKY LITTLE…’_ Biting his tongue, Papyrus kicked your hand away. Compliant, it slid off the pillow with ease.

“HUMAN, YOU KNOW MY RULE OF SLEEPING TOGETHER.”

Your eyelashes fluttered innocently. Vexed, the bitty looped your hair about his phalanges then pulled your eyes’ curtain aside. As you opened one eye, Papyrus’ crimson eye-lights reflected in your iris—like tiny stars in a ring of space.

“Sorry, Boss.” You tried to keep your tone light. You really did. “I just.. I’ve seen you falter a lot today. I wasn’t sure if you’d ask for direct contact or not, so…”

“SO YOU INITIATED IT,” Papyrus uttered. “SNEAKILY, AT THAT.”

Deflating, you buried your face in the pillow entirely. Stifling a chuckle, the Boss bitty glimpsed at your open doorway one last time. Beside him, your head shifted again—for oxygen—, letting him catch sight of those red stars in your iris. The blurriness of those stars pained him.

 _‘FORGET THEM.’_ Huffing sharply, Papyrus plopped onto his back. As he returned to his rightful place beside you, skull and hand and his string of quiet breaths tickling your skin, he ignored your silent stare of surprise.

“Are you… comfy..?” you questioned. He grunted—yes. When you carefully cupped your hand around him, he didn’t complain nor wriggle. Warmth draped itself over him like a blanket, drawn from both SOUL and body.

 _‘He never wants these things…’_ In all the time you’ve known him, he never… _never_ started such things. The fact that he allowed this right now spoke volumes of how exhausted he truly was. Before you could stop yourself, your stinging heart mumbled the softest apology to him.

“TOMORROW,” Papyrus whispered, “WHEN I’M BETTER.”

Wincing at his barren tone, you hugged him closer. A weak tug at your hair—really the grasping of more of you—answered back. The longing for more—more comfort, more heart, more ease about where you two stood with one another—tailed you and the bitty into dream-laced slumber. All the while, streaks and tails of navy blue and snowy white intertwined, putting on a gloriously blinding show—for anyone who happened to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * on Saturdays, the egg returns with a new chapter. the egg's schedule is fickle, though; consistency is impossible to guarantee. patience and support are much appreciated <3
> 
> * while readers wait for a new chapter, the egg has provided a discord server. talk with the author, fellow bitty lovers, and get access to exclusive content (drabbles, one-shots, art, etc.) and interactions with the bitties! everyone is welcome <3
> 
> * [click here to join the discord server!](https://discord.gg/cQt8wWb)


	9. Skipping Rocks

Your morning started off dull. Quiet, dim, it seemed as if the whole world was at a halt. You knew you were. Your mind was blank. You were cold, stiff, not to mention sore along the back and shoulders. Slouching over your desk for Sans’ treatment must’ve done you dirty, you figured. As you dragged a hand down your face, you grimaced. Your skin was slick—grime or oil. You were gross, not to mention starving. That hollowed feeling in your stomach had spread over and locked your muscles like vines.

God—you felt like shit.

Kicking the covers off, you started to crack your spine up towards the ceiling. When your head began to follow the motion, a tug—or rather, a weight—stopped you. Confused, you eased back into the bed, feeling the source of resistance. Soft fabric.. Ridged... Smooth skull with a crack.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. It was Papyrus! He was still there!

_‘Why is he..?! He should be up by now! He’s always awake before me!’_

Holding your breath, you blindly felt for an idea of how entangled he was with your hair. He might as well have dropped dead in his sleep, you thought. It seemed that there wasn’t even an inch of difference between now and how you remembered falling asleep—with his hands gripping your hair. Chewing on your lip, you carefully scooped the bitty into your good hand. You weren’t sure how, but Papyrus barely stirred as you sat up. His grip was still strong.

 _‘Jeez…’_ You couldn’t help smiling a little.

With utmost precision, you eased his phalanges out of your hair one by one. Then, you placed him back in the center of the pillow, where it was warmest from your own body heat. Only then did he begin to shift. Curling up again, he took a fistful of the pillow cover to substitute your hair.

“Aww…” Suddenly, the morning seemed a little brighter.

With a smile to match, you got out of bed and went through your usual stretch routine. Fingers up towards the ceiling, down to the floor; arms crossed, behind the head, against the back; shoulders rolled; head turned; back bent and arched like a cat that’s never seen an inch of space before! Usually, Papyrus was up to judge your performance, but.. guess that was your job today. You had to admit—it felt a little weird not to hear him pressure you into pushing yourself.

_‘Just how bad was he last night?’_

Sighing heavily, you awkwardly got back onto your feet. The sight of Papyrus no longer seemed as sweet as before. He was holding onto that pillow so tightly.. Did he still need contact..? You weren’t sure. Nervously, you checked the time.

 _‘Almost 7:00.’_ It was the weekend; you never woke up before the alarm. That was Papyrus’ job too—to wake up first, to see you slap the clock five minutes through the alarm, then wake you up around 7:30.

The clock changed. The moment that the buzzing chorus sounded, you lunged to silence it–! **_Ouch._** That was your dominant hand. And that smack wasn’t exactly too graceful…

Reluctantly, you craned your neck for a peek at the bitty—still asleep. Frowning at the clock, you turned off its alarm altogether. Better safe than sorry.

_‘Okay. He’s not waking up. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing! He’s just tired. I know that we’ve had contact long enough for him to be okay.’_

Looking at your fingers, you counted the hours. The count was comparable to the time you invested in Sans, but.. you weren’t satisfied. Clearly, Papyrus’ SOUL wasn’t the problem. His magic wasn’t a concern either. Maybe what was chaining him was.. physical—maybe mental. Yesterday was indeed.. a lot for him.

_‘Maybe he just needs time.’_

Not a convincing answer, really. It was the best you had, though—optimistically speaking. And you? You’d take that up any day. Besides–! Papyrus was strong! He was sturdy, stubborn, resilient; you’d be a fool to doubt him.

Huffing with new confidence, you went off to rid yourself of the day’s first ill feelings. Nothing set you up for life’s curveballs better than a good hot shower. In that shower, your voice became a church choir, and wherever water splashed, that was your theater. However.. you weren’t a morning shower person. You actually chilled the water somewhat—just to keep you focused.

 _‘I still need to give Copper and Sans a bath.’_ Not just a bath. A meal, clothing, beds, maybe contact—Who were you kidding? **Especially** contact—and God knew what else.

So much of what they needed just plummeted on your list of priorities last night. Exhaustion did that to you. Although, you were pretty sure that someone with a slightly less selfish compass might’ve pushed past that exhaustion anyways. You had other excuses up your sleeve, but there wasn’t much point in humoring them. You _did_ have an obstacle, though: Papyrus.

 _‘I need to talk with him.’_ Then you paused. _‘All of them.’_

After drying off for the most part, you made your way to the sink. Mouth full of foamy paste and a toothbrush, you sat on the bathroom counter, contemplating how you’d approach the three bitties.

What could be said to appease them? What could be said to calm them? Was there any common ground for them that promised a chance at peace? Probably not, you wanted to think. Papyrus, at least, had only known the other two for a day, and he was already full of nicknames for them–

“HUMAN!”

You froze.

“WHA- WHAT ARE YOU–?! WHAT IS THAT- THAT IMMODEST DISPLAY?!” Papyrus screeched.

In a fit of panic, you fell off the counter. Kicking the bathroom door shut, you frantically clawed for the knob, locking your bare self off from soiled eye-lights.

“S-Sorry..!” you squeaked. Another door slammed shut, startling you. Must’ve been the bedroom door.

Heart pounding in your ears, you shakily rose to your feet. In the semi-fogged mirror, rosiness conquered your cheeks. Cupping your face, you let out a pathetic croak of embarrassment.

 _‘Not again…’_ You had gotten so good at remembering to shut and lock the door too! Leave it to you to forget on a day that Papyrus probably didn’t need to see that! It wasn’t exactly the start of a good morning for him, let alone you. However..

When the heat of your face had finally waned, some inkling of gratitude managed to peep through.

 _‘He’s awake, and it looks like he’s his normal self.’_ That made the humiliation.. somewhat worth it. Besides, this wasn’t the first time he caught you in the nude; you’d live.

Once you were ready to step out, you wrapped your towel tight about you. Luckily, opening the door wasn’t too much strain on your injured hand. As you went to the closet, Papyrus took care to crane his skull in the opposite direction of wherever you were.

Simpering, you chirped, “Good morning to you too.”

“DO NOT SPEAK TO ME UNTIL YOU ARE CLOTHED!” the bitty snapped. Humming, you complied, switching your towel out for a simple t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“I’m dressed!” you announced. “You can look now!”

Warily turning in your direction, Papyrus skimmed over your outfit. In a great huff, he crossed the bed to approach you. “WERE YOU INTENDING SOMETHING TODAY? YOU NEVER GET READY THIS EARLY, ESPECIALLY NOT BEFORE ME!”

You shrugged. “We did go to bed earlier than usual, and well.. you weren’t in the best condition last night. I figured you needed the extra rest.”

Clacking his teeth at you, the bitty glared at your now shut bedroom door. “YOU DID NOT SEE THE SANS NOR PAPY WHILE I WAS ASLEEP?”

“I wouldn’t know. I was in the shower the whole time.”

“YOU DIDN’T THINK TO CHECK ON THEM..?!” he blurted. “HUMAN, YOU–!” He clicked his teeth, correcting himself with your name. “YOU REALLY DID NOT THINK TO CHECK ON THEM AFTER A FULL NIGHT WITHOUT SUPERVISION?”

“They’re not children, Papyrus.”

“NO, CHILDREN ARE HARMLESS,” he retorted. Crossing the bed again, he raised his voice as you left to hang up your towel. “THOSE BITTIES ARE INTRUDERS!”

“‘Intruders’ is a bit of a stretch by now, don’t you think?” You came back out of the bathroom, smiling too playfully to match your tense tone. “They’ve been here for over a day.”

“A DAY,” Papyrus mimicked, cocking his skull. “TIME DOESN’T CHANGE THE FACT THAT THEY BROKE INTO OUR HOUSE, HARMED YOU, AND NEARLY COST ME MY HEALTH!”

Rolling your eyes, you plopped onto the bed. “You’re in top shape now, aren’t you?” Nudging his back, you urged, “Go clean up and change. We can yell it all out with Sans and Copper today, okay?”

At the sound of their names, Papyrus dug his heels into the bed. “DISCUSS? WITH THEM?” he questioned. “YOU DON’T ACTUALLY EXPECT ME TO–”

“I do,” you asserted. “Last night, we tried, and look where it got us. This time, I want to try it with them present.”

“YOU THINK THEY WILL ACTUALLY HUMOR YOU?” he scoffed.

“It’s worth a shot. Now stop sassing me, and start your day already, Mr. Cuddle Bones.”

His jaw fell open. Slowly, as his skull contorted, white bloomed into a thorny rose’s red. “CU–?! CUDDLE BONES?!” the skeleton roared. “TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW! STUFF THAT NAME BACK DOWN YOUR THROAT BEFORE I DO IT MYSELF, YOU INSOLENT, CHEEKY, LITTLE HUMAN!”

Giggling, you scampered off the bed, only to shriek at the barrage of bones to your arm. “Hey! No assaulting the injured!”

“IT ISN’T ASSAULT IF THE INJURED IS THE PROVOKER! NOW STAY STILL, YOU LITTLE..!”

Screams and stomps shook the room as the Boss bitty’s furious shouts stuck themselves in between. The entire house seemed to reverberate with the chaos, struggling to uphold serenity within its walls.

Downstairs, Sans and Copper stared at the ceiling silently, their sockets black with fear. The stamping of your giantess dance seemed eager to break through the ceiling. Shivering, Copper gathered a few more fistfuls of your trench coat to wrap about him.

“guess they slept well,” he murmured.

“No Shit,” Sans hissed.

He scratched at his sternum, irritated by the gleeful squirms of your energy around his SOUL. Every spike of joy you projected from upstairs was another sharp pluck of dissonance at his core. He really hadn’t predicted a human owning such influence over excess energy. It was.. uncomfortable.

“you okay, bro?”

Freezing, Sans looked to his brother. Those honey eye-lights gazed at him blankly, still hazy with drowsiness.

“I’m Fine.”

Crossing the walls of your trench coat’s folds, the smaller skeleton scaled the couch’s armrest. From there, he could see your front door.

It was no different from—if not easier than—the countless apartment doors he’d seen over the years. You had less locks than the common city dweller, and if that Boss could operate the door _for_ you, then certainly **he** could handle it! After all, a Sans of his caliber was perfectly equal to—no, above!—that despicably tamed Boss. In fact, the only obstacle between him and that door was the fact that he–!

He and his brother actually.. did not _need_ to sneak out this time.

“Papyrus,” the skeleton called. “When That Human Arrives, We Will Give Her Our Obligatory Thanks For Her Hospitality, Then We Will Ask Her To Return Us To The City.”

“what..?” Copper scrunched his eye sockets, bewildered. “already..?”

“We Have Spent Enough Time In This House.” Scaling further up the couch, Sans strode the length of its back. Once he could see the bottom of the staircase, he stopped. “I Do Not Want This Human To Develop The Notion That We Wish To Stay.”

“w-well, ye- yeah, but–”

“The Only Reason We Would Stay Is For You To Receive Proper Contact,” Sans continued. “I Have No Problem With Asking. My Only Concern Is That She No Longer Holds The Resolve To Restrain Her Bitty If He Objects.”

“well, _yeah;_ but, Sa- Sans, she–!”

“Furthermore, I Would Not Put It Past That Boss To Implant Certain Impressions Of Us In Her Mind. It’s Not As If I Am Interested In Appeasing This Human, Of Course, But I Have Deduced That She Is Indeed A Gentler SOUL Than Most. Perhaps, Brother, You Could Utilize This Part Of Her. Do You Know What I Mean By ‘Utilize?’”

At last, Sans spared his brother a glimpse. Copper’s voice cut short at the sight of his starry eye-light. It was so much like last night’s: pointed, searing, pulsing with a certain coldness and calculation to it. Copper knew that look. He knew what it meant.

Suddenly, the aching at the center of his ribcage no longer mattered. The thought of an actual week spent in this house buried its own grave. Robotically, Copper gave the nod that his brother was waiting for.

“Good.” Sans smiled. It didn’t last long, though. The abrupt soaring of your volume knocked it clean off his skull.

“No, I won’t let you do that..!” you hiccuped through strings of laughter. Copper didn’t even process the Boss’ response. Before he knew it, he too was on top of the couch, waiting to see your sunny face.

Hunched over with the biggest grin, you staggered down the stairs, clinging to the railing like it was your last string of sanity. Blinking in disbelief, Copper looked to the bitty that was somehow still stuck to your jolting shoulder. Papyrus’ serrated teeth formed a line of knowing confidence, overlaid by this.. distracting warmth.

 _‘what do ya know?’_ He didn’t know Bosses were capable of that.

The scene was interrupted all too brusquely by an elegant, unpleasant clearing of the throat. In shock, Copper glanced at Sans, whose attention was far too taken by something else. Or rather, someone else. Hesitantly, the lanky skeleton looked back at your shoulder. Crimson was painted over the Boss’ skull.

“pfft…”

Sans elbowed him, but to no avail; he was just as guilty.

“Oh, there you are!” You were oblivious. “Good morning! Did you two sleep well?”

This time, you didn’t catch Sans off guard. “We Slept Fine. Thank You.” He was so curt, but you accepted it anyways.

“That’s good!” you beamed. Turning to the kitchen, you started poking around for inspiration. “Do you two have any preferences when it comes to breakfast?”

 _‘what?’_ Copper’s eye-lights darted to Sans, who seemed just as baffled. So much for being composed.

When you popped back into view, your features pinched together. “Nothing?”

Jolting, Sans stood perfectly straight. “N.. No. My Brother And I Are Not Picky.”

 _‘he’s not rejecting,’_ Copper noted. Shaken, but still using you. Of course.

You were innocent to it all, voicing a hope that you wouldn’t disappoint the brothers. As you turned your attention away from them, you took the Boss’ with you. Something about being your assistant chef.

“OF COURSE! I WOULD NEVER DISREGARD YOU IN SUCH A WAY! BESIDES, I DO NOT TRUST YOU IN THIS KITCHEN WITH ONE HAND.”

“Aww… You know I do my best, Boss.”

As Papyrus hissed corrections at you, Copper scoffed, smirking to himself. Maybe you weren’t so innocent after all.

“Look At Him,” Sans whispered. “Have You Ever Seen A More Pathetic Boss?”

“nope. wrapped around her little finger.”

“Was He Like This The Entire Time I Was Unconscious?”

“nah. too fed up with her all-mercy treatment on ya.”

Crossing his arms, Sans tilted his skull in observance. “I Did Not Know Humans Could Mellow Bosses To Such Pitiful Personalities.”

“eh.. i wouldn’t call ‘im mellow just yet. he kicked your ass, didn’t he?”

“ _That_ Was Because You Decided To Climb Into That Thing They Call A Piano,” Sans spat. “I Teleported Plenty More Times Than I Needed To Because Of That.”

Sniggering, Copper shifted his weight idly, tracking your wandering figure with his eye-lights. When you finally settled in front of the stove, the skeleton.. attempted to exchange glances with his brother. Sans was still quite focused on you—probably just analyzing you. Another habit of his.

Sighing of boredom, Copper looked back at you. Several dull minutes ticked by. Then, an idea sprouted.

“hey, Sans..?”

“Hm?”

“using her… any means.. necessary, right..?”

“Well, I Certainly Wouldn’t Recommend Bothering Her At This Moment, But Yes. Appropriately. Why?”

As Sans’ eye-light drifted over, Copper started to lift his arm. Before Sans could question him, he sprung off the couch, seizing his SOUL at the peak of the jump. Gravity rocketed him in your direction, and as always, second nature corrected gravity at just the right time. Hooking his phalanges into your hair, Copper crashed into the back of your head, startling you.

“What the..?!” Your hand flew over him, squeezing his arms.

“h-hey..! careful,” the bitty joked. “gettin’ a lil’ handsy there.” Securing his grip on your finger, Copper let you bring him into your view.

“Copper?! Where did you..?!” You looked back at the couch, where Sans stood, jaw at his feet.

“Papyrus!” the skeleton exploded. “What Were You Thinking, Shooting That Distance?! And Colliding With The Human, No Less! Have You Gone Mad?!”

Shell-shocked, you slowly shifted your gaze back to Copper. Silently, through a nod, you asked for confirmation of Sans’ still ongoing rant.

Trembling with repressed snickers, the bitty flashed his golden tooth at you. “meh. it happens.”

Still high on his burst of boldness, Copper risked a glance at the Boss on your shoulder; blackness greeted him. As you guided Copper to your unoccupied shoulder, the skeleton took another risk. Locking eyes with Papyrus, he hooked a phalange under his eye socket and flashed his golden tongue at the Boss. Scarlet flared out from black.

“WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?!” Papyrus demanded. He leaned over, keeping eye contact with his twin. “IN CASE IT DIDN’T GET THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL, WE HAVE NO TIME TO HUMOR YOU, PAPY!”

“Hey, calm down..!” you hushed. “He isn’t doing anything wrong.”

“YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY OPERATE WITH TWO BITTIES ON YOU! HE’LL FALL OFF!”

Pressing his teeth together, Copper gave your hair a light pull. Somehow, you immediately understood.

“He won’t,” you said. “If he’s feeling unsafe, he has my hair. If not that, he can head back.. however he first came.”

A low, predatory growl begged to differ. Shuddering, Copper looked over his shoulder.

Sans was now on the counter—surely by teleportation—and was mouthing at him incessantly, furiously gesturing for him to come back. Although the display made him uneasy, Copper willed just _one_ more risk out of himself. Blank-faced, the skeleton rose a cupped hand to his non-existent ear. First stunned, then outraged, Sans exploded into a hopping fit, clacking his teeth furiously.

“Get Back Here This Instant..!” he hissed.

Stifling a snort, Copper mouthed: _i’m doing what you told me to. i’m using her._

“Not Like That, You Imbecile..! Get Off Her..!”

Snickering, Copper turned his attention to the breakfast in progress. He plopped onto his pelvis, looping your hair around his hand a few times for security. You paid him no mind, and for the most part, neither did Papyrus.

At some point, you took a large platter out. Pancakes of various flavors and thickness were stacked upon it. As he watched the mouthwatering stacks grow, Copper often looked back at his brother. Sans never moved an inch; his arms stayed locked over his ribcage. However, he was restless. He was picking and scratching at his humerus, tracking each new cake you made with a glaring greed in his eye-light.

_‘they’re getting to him too…’_

When the batter had finally run out, you were quick to move the platter to the dining table. In the same motion, Papyrus slid down your arm, so that when you returned with plate ware and silverware, he was ready to take them from you. Perfectly coordinated, Copper soon realized. Unlike Papyrus, it took your offer of an open hand for him to reach the table. As for Sans, it was just a few consecutive trips across space to reunite.

“You Really… Have Nothing In That Skull Of Yours,” Sans panted. As usual, a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his skull. In its wake, a trail of fading indigo lingered.

“HOW IS MY HUMAN’S ENERGY, LEECH?” the Boss bitty inquired. You weren’t around to supervise anymore. You were at the sink, insisting that the bitties eat first while you washed the dirtied cookware. You couldn’t hear Papyrus’ words.

Facing his challenger, Sans put on a shameless sneer. “Quite Delectable, Actually. I See Your Human Has Improved Your Manners Overnight, Aside From The Names. What A Miracle.”

“DO NOT THINK YOURSELF SO HIGHLY, SANSY.”

The Boss took a pancake, tearing it into three pieces by will of his magic. Gracelessly, he flung the smaller pieces at the brothers. They tumbled back at the force alone, scrambling to get back to their feet. When they finally did, they found Papyrus before a claimed bitty plate with pancake already behind his teeth.

Snarling, Sans started to stamp over, only to trip over a random bone at his feet.

 _‘that wasn’t there earlier.’_ Copper glowered at Papyrus, who had just finished his first bite.

Clacking his teeth with satisfaction, the Boss finally bothered giving Sans a glance.

“YOU CALL ME A GUARD DOG, SANSY. SEEING HOW YOU CAN’T TELL UP FROM DOWN, I’LL CORRECT YOU JUST THIS ONCE.”

Practically foaming at the mouth, Sans ripped his face off the table, scowling at the bitty. “Oh Really?” he snarked. “Do Enlighten Me. What Idiocy Could You Possibly Manage To Voice Right Now?”

His socket twitching, Papyrus let his skull break into a vicious grin. “I WOULD WATCH YOUR TONGUE, LEECH.

"YOU AND YOUR BROTHER ARE NOTHING BUT MICE—MICE IN THE LION’S DEN. YOU’RE IN **MY** TERRITORY. UNLESS YOU WANT TO BECOME A FROTHING BABYBONES AGAIN AND RISK FALLING INTO THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL, YOU’LL KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT.”

“You’re Just Bark. The Human Would Never Accept Such A Tragedy.”

“CORRECT.” The Boss’ eye-lights dimmed, shadowed by a sudden bleakness. “BUT US BITTIES DUST BY ACCIDENT ALL THE TIME. DON’T WE?”

Silence fell. Sans didn’t get up for a while. Pancake shreds still littered the table when you came back. Upon seeing the mess, you looked to the brothers with concern.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. “You don’t like them?”

“Oh, N-No!” Sans shook his skull hastily, fumbling for a response. “We Are Just– We Did Not Mean To- To Disregard Your Work! My Brother And I Are Just–”

“we’re messy,” Copper lied. Well, semi-lied. Sans shot him a look that he gladly ignored in favor of your changing expression.

“Should I get some extra napkins?” you teased.

“nah.” Rocking on his heels, Copper risked a glance at both Sans and the Boss. With a brisk breath, he locked his eye-lights on you. “i’ll, uh.. i’ll ask for some when ’m.. lookin’ to try napkin on them, if ya know what i mean.”

 _Confusion._ You didn’t get it. As you looked away, lost in thought, Copper grinded his bubbling nerves between his teeth. Then, out of nowhere!—a gasp; a precious twinkle in your eye.

“I get it,” you whispered. “Copper. Are you a punster?”

“what..?” A breathy laugh fled him, shaky like his shoulders. “you.. didn’t catch my first one today?”

“What? No!” you giggled. Fighting your grin, you sat yourself down, apologizing and laughing off your slowness all at once. “I’m horrible with wordplay! I hardly ever catch these things in daily conversation.”

In his SOUL, Copper felt a spark. Magic gathered at his cheekbones. “well, i’ll–!” Cowering, he tilted his skull inwards. “i’ll.. try not to twist my tongue over ya, then..?”

Another giggle. It wriggled out of you, slipping past the toothy grin you hid behind crooked fingers. By _stars,_ you were adorable. His eye-lights wide and gleaming, Copper began to step forward, another pun just at the edge of his teeth when–

“That Was Dreadful.”

Sans. Always the party pooper. “At Least Your Napkin Pun Had Some Effort In It.”

Huffing under his breath, Copper leered over his shoulder. “at least they come easy to me. ya don’t see me breakin’ a sweat over ‘em.”

Taken aback, Sans looked back and forth between you and his brother. Then, suspicion crept over his face. “Was That A Jeer?” he snapped. “Are You Mocking Me?”

“can’t say. wouldn’t want ‘cha to blow an eye-light over it.”

“You Are!” Flushing all kinds of purple, Sans marched up to his brother, yanking him down to eye-level. “For The Stars, Behave Yourself! You Can’t Just..!”

Sputtering on the sparks of frustration, Sans’ eye-light flitted a hectic three-way path—flustered. Without warning, he shoved his brother back, then stormed over to the platter of pancakes, fuming in silence. From the sidelines, Papyrus snickered, commenting something about immaturity. Not that Copper processed it. Once the high—what high?—waned, a jittery numbness settled back into his bones.

 _‘too far,’_ the trembles were telling him. He went too far, pushed too hard, got caught up, and for what? A little banter? Just to get–

 _A nudge._ You cut off his thoughts.

Quieting his pants, Copper prepared to face you. He was sure he’d see scorn. Disapproval was bound to stain your features—not as kind, not as tolerant once a bitty looked past it—because he wasn’t the red-eyed one. However.. when Copper finally turned around, he saw.. amusement. He saw concern, but not the reproaching kind!—the forgiving kind..! And when you spoke?

“Should you really be picking on him so early in the morning?”

There was a soundless laugh in those words—a little smile that brightened your face. Chuckling sheepishly, Copper fumbled with his collar. It was rough, no different from him.

“we–… he’s dealt with rougher.” You wouldn’t get that one—not that the bitty minded.

“at least i keep my hands off ‘im, right?” Another risk—raising his hand, waving his phalanges. Furrowing your brow, you started to mirror him, then paused. A light sting had coursed through your palm.

“…You’re really sly, aren’t you?” you remarked.

Smirking slightly, you flicked the skeleton with the back of your wounded hand. Upon contact, Copper pinched your skin, then stumbled forward as your hand retreated. Hastily, he clambered on, grappling onto your wrist as you raised him up.

Your laughter trickled out—a soft twinkle compared to what the Boss could bring out of you. Copper couldn’t care less, though. While you humored him, let him see honey dots in the shine of your eyes, he just.. forgot. He almost forgot where he was. It wasn’t until that _dreadful_ Boss cleared his throat that he, and seemingly you, remembered that you weren’t alone.

Flustered, you spared no time in separating yourself from Copper. His bones, now heavy with the desire of leisure and warmth from your touch, were stiff with disagreement.

By your gentle insistence, the bitty trotted back to Sans and the breakfast still waiting for him. Before rounding the platter, he stopped. He looked at you, then at the Boss. Papyrus had yet to leave him alone.

“What Are You Looking At?” Sans inquired.

“…nothing.”

He flipped the Boss off, then joined his brother. A fork was broken that day—shame on the Boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * on Saturdays, the egg returns with a new chapter. the egg's schedule is fickle, though; consistency is impossible to guarantee. patience and support are much appreciated <3
> 
> * while readers wait for a new chapter, the egg has provided a discord server. talk with the author, fellow bitty lovers, and get access to exclusive content (drabbles, one-shots, art, etc.) and interactions with the bitties! everyone is welcome <3
> 
> * [click here to join the discord server!](https://discord.gg/cQt8wWb)


	10. Groping at Water

The dishes clattered against the sink walls with children’s exuberance. Over the noise, the faucet craned and swiveled its coiling chrome neck, showering the porcelain discs. You fixed your grip on the faucet’s spout, then reached to your left. Where there was supposed to be a bitty, ready to hand off his own dish and fork for washing, you soon realized there was no one. Instead, there were bitty-sized stacks: a stack of plates, a stack of cups, and a pile of forks. Four forks, you realized. _Correction:_ two forks and a broken third.

_‘That’s weird…’_

As you set the broken fork aside, you looked ahead into the living room. The three bitties stood atop your glass coffee table, clacking their teeth at one another. At least, that’s what it seemed to be. The thought weighed heavily upon your features.

 _‘They were so quiet during breakfast.’_ Now, the sight of Papyrus’ and Sans’ snapping jaws made you ill. They were standing too close to each other.

You made quick work of cleaning. After tossing the broken fork out, you hastily joined the bitties. They silenced eerily fast, turning to you in even scarier sync. When you came to a stop, their stares seized your breath.

“HMPH.” Strolling to the table’s edge, Papyrus cocked his skull at you. “YOU AREN’T USUALLY THAT EFFICIENT WITH WASHING THE DISHES. I’M IMPRESSED.”

Forcing a chuckle, you sat on the floor, resting against the couch. “Give me a little credit, Boss. We have guests today.”

You tilted your head at a certain angle, keeping yourself eye-level with him. “Are you treating our guests right, Papyrus?”

“WHAT SORT OF CRUDE CHARACTER DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?” he sneered.

The bitty slid down a table leg with ease, crossing the carpet to meet you. Second nature guided your hand to him, but his pride mandated a distance. As usual, you respected it. Drawing your hand back, you propped your chin in the cup of your palm.

“So what were you three talking about while I was busy, hm?”

“We Were Discussing The Next Decision Of Greater Interest,” Sans uttered. Planting his feet, he squared his shoulders at you. “More Specifically, One Of The Greater Good.”

“Really?” You fell quiet. “Do you mind elaborating?”

“It Is Not As If I Intended To Do Otherwise.”

“KEEP IT CONCISE.”

“Yes, Yes, I Will,” Sans sighed, waving Papyrus’ tone off. The moment that you leaned forward, though, he paused. Bright, buzzing, his starry eye-light stared you down.

“Are you and Copper full?”

He stiffened immediately. Slowly, his phalanges curled into a fist, then fell to his side. Right when you thought you had upset him, he perked up, sporting a wide, charming smile. “Yes. A Wonderful Conversation Starter, Actually.

“My Brother And I Have Been Wanting To Thank You For A While. You Have Been A Wonderful Host Thus Far. Truly Above And Beyond, As You Humans Put It. You’ve Tended Splendidly To My Health; Fed My Brother Not Once, But Twice—With A Breakfast That Neither Of Us Ever Expected Nor Intended To Ask Of You; And So Far, Everything You Have Said And Done Has Been With The Highest Amount Of Consideration A Human Has Ever Granted Us. Truly, A Treatment Unlike Any Other I Could Have Ever Predicted From You.”

 _‘Woah.’_ You gaped at him, dumbfounded. You didn’t realize so much could come out of such a small mouth. You weren’t even sure you processed most of his words, honestly…

“Well, um.. I’m- I’m happy!” you stammered. “I wasn’t.. sure–! how you felt after last night and this morning with Copper..! You were..”

“Not In The Greatest Mood Nor Temper,” the bitty simpered. “I Am Aware. However, Surely, You Understand That A Survivor Cannot Help But Prioritize Survival First, Yes?”

Your thumb grazed the five, reddened points that bordered your palm. “Of course.” Your nerves shrieked at first contact. “You’ve been out on the streets for a while, haven’t you?”

Sans’ smile faltered. Keen, swift, his eye-light met Copper’s. “Yes. If I Recall Correctly, It’s Been At Least Three Winters Now.”

With a timid nod, Copper spoke. “won’t be much longer ‘till the fourth one rolls in.”

“Precisely, Brother. Thus, All The More Reason That We Ought To Return To The City. However,” that violet star darted again, landing upon you, “That Journey Is Not A Task That We Can Achieve On Our Own.”

You nearly pinched your own palm. “You want me to drive you to downtown..?”

Sans cocked his skull at you, as if _you_ were the fool. “Yes. The Winter Season Is Never One To Take Lightly, After All.”

“Why would you..?” Shaking your head in disbelief, you gawked at him. “Sans. I can’t just drive you to a winter’s grave. The snowstorms are hell out there..!”

“We Learned That The First Winter, Thank You,” he retorted. “What’s Your Point? I Am Requesting You To Allow Us Time To Prepare For The City’s Winter—Time That, Mind You, We Intended To Have From The Very Start, Had It Not Turned Out For Your Location In Residence.”

“Sans, that’s.. That’s stupid!” you exclaimed. “Why would you–?! You have–! I could _literally_ provide for both of you until spring arrives! You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes. I’m Aware.” A harsh sheen caught your eye. “Are _You_ Aware That You Are Dealing with Survivors And Not Strays?” Sans snapped. “Perhaps It Has Not Occurred To You, But We Are Fully Capable Of Surviving Much Worse Conditions. Three Winters Is Hardly A Feat To Scoff At.”

“I’m not scoffing at it.”

Ironically, the bitty replied with a scoff of his own. “Not Aloud.”

You tried to respond, only to squeak. What were you supposed to say..?! You made faces, gestured at thin air, tried to grasp a _sliver_ of comprehension for this bitty’s madness—which, mind you, you didn’t. And you weren’t planning to any time soon.

Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’m not going to force you to stay.” You could respect that much, at least. “You’re right. You’re not.. strays nor pets. I know that, but.. I’m just worried. There’s no guarantee you’ll survive a fourth winter, Sans. Not to mention a winter. A day, even.”

“A Day?” Sans almost lurched forward; your back hit the couch. “How Dare You Think Us So Helpless! To Think I Once Thought You A..–! Ugh!”

A snarl tore out of him. The sight of his back made your heart sink. Quieting, you watched as Copper ushered his brother to another end of the coffee table. Away from you, you realized. You couldn’t hear anything; they were hushed. Although, Copper’s flinches and subtle frowns gave you some ideas. The sharp, pointed swings and trembles of Sans’ hands told the same.

You didn’t mean to offend him—really. You thought you chose your words carefully. Sure, your volume jumped a few times, but that was just out of shock..! It wasn’t as if you said anything wrong! It was true! Bitty or human, there was no real predictor or promise that today would be as safe as the last. It wasn’t as if you were lying… You didn’t mean..—No. You **didn’t** think low of him, of any of them..! You were just worried. You’re still worried. You really didn’t mean to offend…

A tug got your attention. As you turned your head, a piece of your hair slipped out of Papyrus’ grip like silk. You didn’t realize he had scaled up to your shoulder somehow.

“Yes?”

“YOU ARE OVERTHINKING,” he remarked. Pursing your lips, you looked elsewhere. The bitty’s sigh placed another weight upon your heart.

“HE’S DRAMATICALLY OVERSENSITIVE. YOU REALIZE THAT, DON’T YOU? YEARS AS A SURVIVOR HAVE DRIVEN HIM MAD.”

Draping a hand over your mouth, you muttered, “Don’t insult him. He’s in his own right to perceive as he wants.”

“WE DON’T BENEFIT FROM HOUSING THEM. IT’S APPARENT THAT THEY DO NOT DESIRE IT, EITHER. RETURN THEM TODAY. THE SOONER, THE BETTER.”

Your gaze hardened. Incredulous, you glared at the Boss. “You’re with Sans. You think they should leave as well.”

Rolling his eye-lights, Papyrus stepped up from your shoulder to the couch. “PERHAPS YOU’RE UNAWARE OF THIS: BITTIES WERE NOT ENGINEERED TO CARE FOR ONE ANOTHER. WE WERE ENGINEERED TO CARE FOR BROTHERS, WHICH I LACK, AS WELL AS HUMANS. TO EXPECT ME TO CARE FOR THOSE TWO IS A MERE SENTIMENT. I ASSURE YOU, THE FEELING IS MUTUAL.”

“Fricking Boss…” You weren’t sure what you expected.

Slouching against the couch, you leaned your head back onto a cushion’s edge. Papyrus’ nearing footsteps made themselves known to you in the form of leather’s subtle crinkles. The sound soothed you somehow. His little huff, the shifts of his weight, the awkward silence that tailed; all of it brought your upset down to a simmer. Your head cleared enough for you to notice the brothers’ silence.

When you peeked over at them, Copper’s eye-lights caught you. Vividly warm, those golden-honey nodes seemed to bore into your very soul. They drifted, trapped between you and Sans. Silent, stagnant, the skeleton seemed.. to plead. He was pleading. Gulping, you hugged your leg close to your chest.

_‘He wants me to speak.’_

Sans certainly wasn’t going to. He refused to spare you even a glimpse of his expression.

 _‘Copper…’_ His name stuck to the tip of your tongue, bitter yet not. _‘God damn it.’_

Sitting back upright, you shot a flat pout at your guests. “Sans?”

He grunted.

Against the quickening beat of your anxious heart, you uttered an apology. “It’s not that I think low of you and your brother. I’m just.. very sincerely worried. However..” Your voice softened. “I will trust your judgement and your experience.”

He tensed.

“You know your own limitations and abilities; I don’t. That aside, I want to respect you both as individuals. If you want me to drive you back, I will. Before we part ways, though.. I hope that you’ll let me leave you off on a good note.”

Finally, he turned his skull. “Clarify. What Is Your Definition Of A ‘Good Note’?”

“You know, leaving you off on a good start. Fed, clothed, bathed, proper contact—whatever you need. You’re already here. The least I can do is ensure you’ve got a one-up on the streets, right?”

Your poor attempt of a smile elicited a grimace from the skeleton. Dryly, Sans retorted, “You Are Conscious Of The Suspicions Your Charity Provokes, Yes?”

Sheepishly, you chuckled and nodded. “It’s your choice. I won’t force anything on you. I won’t surprise you either.”

“You Do Not Seek Compensation?”

“Unless you plan to be another nag on my back, no.”

_“WHAT?”_

You scooted away from the couch, much to the brothers’ amusement. Their sniggers sparked a feather-light pride in your chest. Sans’ smirk—It made you smile. For the first time, his starry eye-light emanated a gentler glow. Still sharp-lined, but.. with a kinder aim.

“Alright,” the bitty sighed. “Out Of Gratitude And Courtesy, We Will Accept Your Charity. It Is Evident That You Are Of Profuse And Trustworthy Heart. It Has Been A Fair Number Of Years Since Either Of Us Have Indulged Ourselves Anyways.”

He glanced at his brother, whose eye sockets were wide with bafflement. “It Will Be A Nice Treat. Don’t You Agree, Brother?”

Almost instantly, Copper straightened up, clumsily rigid like a fresh recruit before his general. “uh, y-yeah..! ‘d love that..!” Puffs of laughter slipped past his goofy show of a grin. Under Sans’ spotlight, the bitty blushed ever so slightly, ever so happily.

“Great!” You crawled towards the table, extending a finger towards Sans. He jumped back by reflex, eyeing you with bewilderment.

“What Are You Doing?”

“SHE’S OFFERING YOU A HANDSHAKE, YOU HALF-BLIND FOOL.”

“Why, You–!”

Wincing, you scooted a few inches to the right, just enough to block the bitties from each other’s view. “Pay attention, please.”

The short skeleton took a brisk breath, doing his best to mind the scowl that threatened to surface. “Yes. Your Handshake. What For?”

“It’s a deal.” You nodded your head, chancing a small, lopsided smile. “You promise to let me care. I promise to take you back. Neither of us goes back on our word.”

Sans blinked at you—blinked at your hand, then at you, and once again. He burst out laughing, barely covering his gaping grin. “What Are You, A Child?!” he blurted out.

Your face flared up, hot and alive. “N-No..!” Your chuckles rolled out light and feathery, dyed deep in embarrassment. “I just..!” You sighed, putting on a thin, good-humored smile. “I’m naive, okay? Give me some slack here.”

The bitty’s teeth clacked shut, still chattering with the remnants of near-sniggers. When he finally composed himself, Sans reached out, wrapping his phalanges about your fingertip. As he shook your hand, so to speak, he said something.. very unexpected.

“Naivety Does Not Suit You, Human.” He spoke with what you swore was a hint of fondness. “You Are More.. Headstrong Than Naive—A Quality I Both Admire And Detest In You.”

His confidence, his smugness, made you chortle; you weren’t sure why. “The feeling’s mutual,” you quipped. Partly true, partly not. Your heart felt too full for it to be completely true. A little giddy, even. You couldn’t help it!

You were beaming—through the handshake, when you stood up, and through Sans’ stare. It seemed as if nothing could get rid of your smile— _almost_ nothing. The cuckoo clock went off in the distance, chirping ten times in total. You grimaced to yourself, suddenly remembering what day it was. “Chores Day,” as you called it. The house wasn’t going to clean itself.

“Sorry, guys,” you sighed. “Is there any chance you could bathe yourselves first? I’ve got a few things to tend to before I do anything else.”

Sans bowed his skull, beaming at you. “Of Course. I Trust That You Know Your Own Priorities.”

You paused, baffled yet again. _‘What do you know? He’s pretty sweet when you get to know him.’_

“Thanks, Sans.”

As you offered an open hand to the two brothers, Copper took to you first. Casually eager, casually swift, the bitty practically tumbled back into the cup of your palm. You giggled, all too weak as his little smirk lit up in your direction. Off to the side, Sans rolled his eye-light.

“Brother, Get Up. We Do Not Need To Rely On Her. I Can Teleport Us.”

“it’s part o’ the contact, bro!” Stretching his limbs, Copper aimed his cheeky grin at the sky. “ya should give it a try. less magic, less touchin’, right?”

“That’s A Horribly Useless Way Of Thinking.”

“but accurate,” the taller brother quipped. “c’mon.”

“No.”

“please?”

“No.”

“c’mon..!”

“I Can Follow Her Just Fine On My Own!”

“ALRIGHT, THAT’S ENOUGH!” Papyrus barked. “STOP YOUR PRATTLING! I WILL TAKE YOU TWO TO THE BATH.”

You’d never seen skulls turn quicker. As you turned your attention to the Boss, you felt a pinch, a grab, at your thumb—small, unnerved phalanges. Once Papyrus’ boots touched carpet, Copper’s grip turned lax. His touch felt reluctant to leave.

“Papyrus, that’s very sweet of you, but I can take them.”

“NONSENSE. YOU SHOULD BEGIN YOUR CHORES NOW WHILE YOU HAVE THE CHANCE. BESIDES, I AM INARGUABLY BETTER SUITED TO TEACH THEM HOW TO USE _MY_ BATH.”

“That’s true,” you admitted. Besides.. you couldn’t keep the three bitties separated forever.

“You promise to play nice?”

“WE ARE BITTIES,” he chided, “NOT CHILDREN.” With room to mock, apparently. “I ASSURE YOU, A PAPYRUS OF MY CALIBER WOULD NEVER DECEIVE YOU WITH SUCH ILL INTENTIONS. I JUST AIM TO SAVE YOU SOME PETTY TROUBLES.”

In the blink of an eye, a second bitty took to the floor as well. “I Very Much Doubt That,” remarked the teleporter, “But I Will Humor Your Lie For The Sake Of Your Human’s Efficiency. Papyrus!”

 _Pinched again._ Your eyes flitted downwards, but Copper let go already. By the time that Sans looked over his shoulder, the lanky skeleton had clambered out of your hand. You watched his awkward journey from table to carpet, you to Sans. All the while, your nails grazed the flesh of your palm. It felt unnaturally warm—barren too.

 _‘He’s been very touchy today..’_ Not touchy, as in “sensitive,” of course! but.. _touchy._ As in, he was earnest for touch. You hadn’t really picked up on it earlier, but now that you thought about it, it was very.. _very_ different from yesterday.

 _‘I did neglect him yesterday.’_ Perhaps he was due for his own contact session…

You’d never know, though. Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the three bitties taking their leave. You didn’t hear the tapping of little skeletal feet against wood nor the light tread of custom-made boots. Even if you could hear the scratches of sole and bone against the stairs’ staggered incline, you wouldn’t. The bitties were too busy _racing_ to bother with climbing.

While Papyrus eased his shield onto the granite tiles, the two brothers practically dropped onto one another in their last skip across space. While they worked to untangle their limbs posthaste, the Boss bitty started for your bedroom, a smirk across his skull.

 _‘THAT OUGHT TO SHOW THEM.’_ It was a fool’s choice to test _him_ of all bitties. They might as well have been children at this point. Honestly!—Teleporting a few steps ahead of him, then pulling the “bad host” taunt for “making his guests wait”? Absolutely childish, Papyrus thought—unbelievably so.

As he watched the brothers enter your room, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Their glares were pathetically passionate.

“Not Children, Hm?” The Sans’ eye-light seemed ready to spark, indignant.

“YOU OUGHT TO KNOW BETTER THAN TO CHALLENGE A BOSS, SANSY. CONSIDER IT AS PAYMENT FOR THE BREAKING OF YOUR PROMISE.”

“What Promise..?!” Sans exploded. He wiped off a film of indigo from his skull, flicking the sweat off his arm. “I Don’t Ever Recall Promising You Anything.”

“WE HAD AGREED YOU WOULDN’T LEECH OFF MY HUMAN ANYMORE.”

“That Was Not The Agreement. You Warned Me; I Tried To Deflect Her. It Is Not My Fault That Your Human’s Blind Generosity Is Of Such Idiotic Proportions!”

“NATURALLY.” Sarcasm was a serpent’s tongue at this point. “A SURVIVOR ALWAYS BLAMES THE HUMAN FIRST.”

The shorter skeleton clicked his teeth. Not a sliver of guilt could be found in his expression. Huffing, Papyrus turned on his heel, strolling into your bathroom. As he swung open the doors of a lower cabinet, the brothers peeked about his stature.

Not a second passed before the dimness started to shift. Lacking in timing, unified in hue, little bulbs drilled into the cabinet’s top crackled and illuminated the arrangement lying within. Against the wall sat a sheening ceramic bathtub, pearly white beside its curling, clouded curtain. A snipped square of shaggy carpet spanned the floor, going from tub to sink. A mirror and even a little light fixture took up the opposite wall, giving the sink its own little charm and gleam. At the very back, there were hangers and bins. A few hand-hemmed towels were hung, two of which Papyrus grabbed upon entering the bitty-sized bathroom.

“I DO NOT WANT TO RISK EXCHANGING ANY FILTH WITH YOU TWO, SO I WILL PROVIDE YOU THE PROPER SUPPLIES JUST THIS ONCE.”

“Oh, How Flattering,” Sans drawled. As he and Copper stepped onto the carpet square, he lazily looked about, straight-faced. “Are We Supposed To Feel Honored To Be In Your Apparently Much Undeserved Domain?”

“NO.” The Boss tossed the towels over, nearly slapping the brothers’ skulls with them. “JUST INFERIOR.”

He fished out two sponges from one bin, lobbing them into the bathtub. Copper followed the sponges’ arc, resting a hand upon the tub’s edge. His phalanges, yellowed by years of neglection, were blindingly marring against the ceramic.

“ya want us to scrub grime off our bones or what?”

“THAT IS THE IDEAL,” Papyrus stated. “I CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW MUCH DIRT YOU’VE ALREADY SCATTERED ABOUT THE HOUSE.”

He strode past the brothers, leaving the cabinet to them. He was brisk, confident, secure. His leer seared across his intruders’ backs.

“TAKE YOUR TIME,” the bitty suggested. “MY HUMAN IS IN NO RUSH TO SEE YOU TWO.”

With those final words, the cabinet doors slammed shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * on Saturdays, the egg returns with a new chapter. the egg's schedule is fickle, though; consistency is impossible to guarantee. patience and support are much appreciated <3
> 
> * while readers wait for a new chapter, the egg has provided a discord server. talk with the author, fellow bitty lovers, and get access to exclusive content (drabbles, one-shots, art, etc.) and interactions with the bitties! everyone is welcome <3
> 
> * [click here to join the discord server!](https://discord.gg/cQt8wWb)


	11. Author's Update - HIATUS

Hello, Esse here! Chances are, this is the first you've really heard from me as the fic's author. If you've been following this fic for a while, you've probably picked up by now - "Wow, it's been a while since this fic has updated." This is due to a lot being piled on my plate, with life barely sticking to the rails. The way things are going, I truthfully can't place a timeline or estimate on when things will calm down enough for me to really concentrate on this story again.

However, I don't want to lose touch with you guys, as my audience <:) Thus, I invite you to my fic's Discord server!

We offer a lot, including:

  * Exclusive _a Sun upon Hollows_ content! My concept art, little drabbles, and ideas galore~
  * Easter Eggs! Get some insight from the Human herself - for the story, what lies ahead, and some good ol' inside jokes.
  * Non-canon bitty content, as in _*ahem*_ full-skeleton-sized content. Good for romancing and sweet, sweet self-shipping fluff <3  

    * _Content is published on my own time. No regular schedule._
  * Bitty visits!! Meet and talk and befriend the bitty trio over time through open roleplay, as bots controlled by yours truly. 
    * _Visits are hosted on my own time. No regular schedule._
  * Bitty teams! >:D Who's your favorite bitty? The loyal Papyrus? The heartwarming Copper? Or the oh-so-wordy, eloquent Sans? Choose your team, show your support, and get together with your fellow bitty-lovers! No pressure, though. They won't mind if you have multiple favorites ;)
  * A very open, supportive community for... 
    * Undertale/Deltarune fanart and writing!
    * Original art and writing!
    * Roleplay
    * Promotions - both for yourself and others <3
    * Your own creative endeavors!! AUs, OCs, random ideas, whatever you come up with.



We adore both creators and fans alike, and we welcome people from all backgrounds! However, we're also a **SFW (Safe for Work)** server that welcomes **both** minors and adults. If you're an avid UT lover, with a good taste for the fun and free-flowing, then this is the place for you!

[ ** Click Here to Join the Server! ** ](https://discord.com/invite/cQt8wWb)

If the server's not of any interest to you, that's okay :) At best, I ask for your understanding and patience for the day my hiatus ends. Thank you all for reading my story up to this point. Your support for the story, the bitties, and my writing itself fills my heart with an everlasting joy. May your days be well, and may you find plenty of reasons to smile :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Posted on July 31, 2020.**
> 
> When the hiatus is over, this chapter will be deleted and replaced by the next chapter. Until then, the hiatus is in effect.


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